Pickman's Tale
by Victor227
Summary: Takes place in the anime universe, events moving into manga. The story of captain Pickman as he struggles to survive the Tower of London and rebuild the leaderless Hellsing organization with the impending invasion of London by the Millenium Organization.
1. Prologue: Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing. I don't own any of the characters or ideas used in it. I can only say I'm borrowing them without the intent of profiting from their use. Only the first two chapters will directly take events from the anime, I'm just getting the revision finished before the original plot can begin.

Author's note: The first two chapters cover the prelude, focusing on Captain Pickman's survival at the tower of London, and his establishment as the successor of the Hellsing organization.

* * *

Prelude 

The moon rose above the Tower of London as a group of armoured personnel carriers from the Hellsing Organization parked outside the gates. Soldiers were stationed on standby at the entrance wating for the order to attack. Captain Pickman stood near his APC, going over his gear before he was briefed by the Commander.

"Pickman!" called Commander Fargason. The captain quickly joined his superior. "The targets are not ghouls. The targets are freaks. You'll note that they're wearing SAS uniforms, but they are still vampires. Make sure your men know to aim for the head and chest".

Pickman nodded at the advice "I never expected to end up fighting the SAS sir." Pickman commented.

"Especially in the middle of the tower." Fargason responded. "Remember lad. Both God, and her majesty is with us." Fargason looked up at the tower, preparing himself for the battle to come.

"Amen." Pickman replied. He turned to his troops. "All right, split into groups of two and sweep the area. Gamble's unit is already pinned down by freaks inside so we need to move quickly to secure the area."

The unit moved through the gates and divided along the prearranged routes. Pickman took two men with him and began down his route.

"We're surrounded inside the tower." Reported an increasingly desperate soldier. Gamble's team, Pickman figured, had already lost allot of men, and the remainder would be low on ammo and morale. "We are requesting backup! We need backu-aaugh!" The voice cut off and soon after Pickman began to hear gunfire and explosions erupt from the areas his unit had divided to cover.

The radio became jammed with transmissions reporting contact with the enemy and soon became louder with gunfire and strained voices requesting backup and medical assistance.

Pickman's monitoring of the radio was cut off by a burst of sub-machine gun fire narrowly missing the man to his left.

Pickman looked ahead, spotting a blue-uniformed SAS vampire hanging from the ceiling of the tunnel ahead. Pickman's team returned fire, the automatic rounds tearing into the vampire from a distance.

It took a full clip from each man before the freak ceased movement and began to dissolve into the dust it and it's sacrilegious brethren were truly composed of. The group reloaded and continued into a courtyard.

Another vampire waited there. Unarmed it slowly shambled towards the group. The situation was odd, but Pickman chose not to question it as he and his men fired bursts of SMG ammo into the freak's face, literally tearing it apart with a multitude of rounds.

The headless corpse fell to the ground in front of the team as Pickman took the chance to pause and activate his radio. The frequency was dead silent, a sign that the freaks had likely killed most, if not all of his men.

He quickly switched to the command frequency. "This is Pickman. We're heading for Beachum Tower." There was no response. He tapped his headset to make sure it still worked and then continued. "What's the situation outside. Portknight, are you-" He cut off as he heard the leafs behind him rustle with movement.

_Damn_, he thought as he turned around. _That freak we killed must have been a lure to get us out into the open_. Sure enough all he could see was the legs of his last comrade being pulled into the branches above. "Blast." He said. His voice taking a sarcastic tone with the annoyance at being in such a poor situation.

He turned forward again, seeing a pair of SAS vampires walking towards him with the intent of eliminating the final human remaining in the tower.

With his MP5 at only a quarter clip after the last vampire Pickman wouldn't last long. Instead he drew his glock, firing a few rounds into the freak on his left before shifting his aim to the right one. "Damn." He cursed, seeing the freaks shrug off the bullets with ease. He opened fire with his MP5 on the freak approaching to his right.

The leafs behind Pickman rustled again as a third vampire jumped out behind him, still carrying the body of one of Pickman's men. However, before it could reach the Hellsing captain a bullet tore through the side of it's head, cutting it's leap short and sending the body flying away from Pickman.

Pickman looked to the wall on his left, seeing a familiar red coated figure. "Alucard!" He shouted, hoping to confirm the identity a possible ally.

"Sorry, I'm running a bit late." Answered the Hellsing vampire, as sarcastic and nonchalant as ever. Alucard fired another round from his Jackal, easily re-killing the vampire on Pickman's left.

"I abhor tardiness." Pickman responded, trying to match the confidence of the immortal killing machine whom had just aided him. He then turned his attention to the remaining freak, bringing it down with a combined hail of bullets from his two firearms.

With his safety temporarily gained Pickman took in the situation. He was the only human remaining in a fortress of the damned. His men, and the men of every other Hellsing team, were likely dead. His only ally could care less if Pickman lived or died. Pickman was alone in the tower, with only his guns and the honor of the Hellsing Organization to support him.

That was the key, honor, the pride of Hellsing. He couldn't betray the dedication of his men by cowering until death took him.

He looked at his surroundings. There was a dead comrade behind him on the path. Silently he walked up to it, kneeled beside the corpse, muttered a quick prayer, shooting the soldier after finishing with a solemn "Amen".

Pickman let his helmet fall to the ground, it wouldn't protect him. He looked over to the wall and found that Alucard had begun to walk away slowly. Pickman smirked, feeling his confidence return with his confirmation to carry on the mission. "After losing so many men I'd better be victorious."

Alucard reacted to the statement, responding "Spoken like a true soldier of Hellsing." He continued to walk away. _Likely to begin a massacre_, Pickman thought. _ Those bastards deserve it too_. Facing Alucard in battle was not something Pickman would envy those vampires for.

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Author's note: Thats all for now. This is my first fanfiction, so any criticism and advice is beyond welcome.  



	2. Prologue: Part 2

Author's note: Again, another update, this time finishing the battle at the Tower of London and ending the prologue. Also, just to disclaim, I do not own Hellsing, it's characters, or concepts. I'm only borrowing them without the intent to profit from their use.

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Prologue Part 2 

Pickman continued into the tower, making sure to take some extra grenades and ammo from the two corpses who were formerly his support.

There was a new presence in the tower. Pickman felt as he was caught in an undead crossfire, with Alucard on one side, and the freak SAS team on the other.

Pickman kicked open the door to a hallway. He couldn't see through the darkness ahead. Quickly he decided to take no chances and spray the area with SMG fire before tossing a grenade ahead.

Pickman ran for the doorway's cover. The explosion succeeded in lighting up the area, sending centuries old dust and debris flying. Pickman saw a lone figure emerge from the smoke.

_Alucard_, Pickman thought. _Figures_. The immortal was unfazed by the explosion and Pickman couldn't help but whistle at the display.

Pickman and Alucard split ways again. Pickman continued to sweep the inside of the structure while Alucard had moved into the outside areas and was succeeding in drawing the SAS vampires like moths to a flame.

Pickman continued down a hall, only to pause as he heard the sound of something dropping from the ceiling behind him. Rather than turn around and face whatever had ambushed him at close range, Pickman rolled forward, barely dodging a knife thrust aimed for the back of his skull.

Pickman pulled out of his roll and faced his assailant. An SAS vampire hung from the ceiling, it's blue uniform camouflaging it in the darkness.

Pickman fired, catching the hanging freak with a full burst of MP5 fire to the face. It dropped to the ground, stunned as Pickman followed up with a full-auto barrage that tore into the face and chest of the less-than-immortal freak.

Pickman turned away and reloaded only after the vampire had ceased movement and begun to dissolve. He knew that he was horribly outnumbered and outpowered by the vampires.

_But giving up isn't a choice,_ He thought. _How could I face Sir Hellsing without having done everything in my power to accomplish the goals of the Organization._

Again he continued, moving onto the path that would lead to the main keep. _The freaks' command center no doubt, _he figured._ I doubt a lone human would have much of a chance, but that hasn't stopped me yet._

He moved up the path, careful to avoid any of the sneak attacks that the SAS freaks were quickly becoming associated with. What he found was far more dangerous. At the doors waited two fully armed vampires, MP5s aimed in Pickman's direction.

"Damn." He muttered. A sneak attack was at least stoppable, but fighting two vampires directly was a nearly impossible feat.

The freaks seemed amused by Pickman's presence, not immediately firing at him. Pickman took the opportunity to gain the initiative by tossing a grenade between the two.

As expected the freaks jumped away, giving Pickman the chance to trace the right one with his MP5 while firing his glock to the left to keep the other vampire moving.

The MP5 rounds managed to tag the right freak in mid-leap, a pair of holes appearing in it's chest. The vampire fell to the ground and returned fire, forcing Pickman to strafe to avoid being hit by the SMG fire from his freak adversary.

The motion kept Pickman from being able to get an accurate shot on his opponent. SMG fire was exchanged between the two for a couple of seconds before Pickman escaped his downed opponent's weapon radius and took quick aim, blasting several holes in the head of the traitorous beast.

However, while this fight was going on Pickman had forgotten about the second vampire, which had long since finished evading the handgun fire which Pickman had carelessly sent at it. The creature let out a roar and charged at him.

Pickman spun to take aim at his opponent, only to be tackled into the wall of the keep. Pickman shook off dizziness that had overtaken him and put his glock to the freak's head.

He was about to pull the trigger when he felt the sickening feeling of the monster's gun pressing against his stomach.

Pickman's resolve almost faltered with the realization that he was about to be shot. But still he held his gun to the creature's head.

The two fired simultaneously. Pickman's body armour was useless at close range, the freak's shot tearing into Pickman's gut even as it's own fate was sealed.

Pickman's shot was enough to kill the freak, sending it flying back with a shot point-blank through it's face. Pickman could see the body drop to the ground as he began to notice the pain beginning to emanate from the bullet imbedded in his stomach.

"Damn it all..." He then coughed, feeling blood rise through his throat. He began to feel dizzy again and his vision blurred.

He sat there, slumped against the wall, feeling the fragile workings of the human body be halted by the actions of that damned freak. He knew that he wouldn't be able to survive a bullet wound to the stomach without receiving medical attention soon. If the bleeding didn't kill him, the internal damage would.

Pickman waited, knowing he was likely as doomed to die as his fellow soldiers of Hellsing. _But that isn't anything new,_ Pickman thought. _I knew that this would happen the second I chose to continue this mission._

The approach of a figure interrupted Pickman's musings. Even in his poor condition he could still recognize the vampire Alucard. The red-coated monster had just finished off yet another SAS vampire, unhindered by the weaknesses of humanity.

_"_Alucard." Pickman addressed the vampire firmly, still trying to maintain a degree of calm even in the face of death.

The self-admitted monster turned to Pickman. "There's a bullet in your stomach." He stated.

Pickman saw this as more than more than stating the obvious. There was an invitation in his voice. The same invitation he had given Seras on a moonlit night similar to this one. To be given the power of a vampire. An escape from the weakness that had led to his present situation.

He was tempted to accept, and just as he was about to respond Pickman was struck by an image. He could see the men he had led to their deaths this night, and what they stood for. Hellsing, the Order of Protestant Knights protecting Her Majesty and all of Great Britain from the undead.

No, he concluded. I could never betray them by accepting. Even on the brink of death it would still be betrayal. "I...want to be human." He choked out. "For Hellsing..."

A new idea was forming in his mind, brought on by the horrible pain he was enduring. Alucard could still end his suffering. He doubted the vampire would mind wasting a bullet to end Pickman's pain.

However, before he could give the mental acknowledgment he was interrupted again by memories. The battle at the tower had been the most fulfilling experience of his life. He was alone, doomed to fail. Yet still he had persevered.

The pride and honour of the Hellsing name had filled him with the confidence to continue. Pickman knew he had to continue along that path.

He had made his choice. He would strive to live. Continuing his existence in conflict against his own failing body.

"Let me..." He rasped. "Fight..." There was no turning back. Pickman would be left to an uncertain fate. He was now determined to follow the example of his leader, Integra, and strive to live.

Pickman could barely make out the figure of Alucard as he tipped his hat to the fallen soldier and dropped the near-empty clip of his Jackal to the ground.

Pickman barely heard the slamming of a new clip into the gun as he slipped into unconsciousness. Fate uncertain, but at least he had made the choice.

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A/N: Again, I appreciate any sort of review. Especially advice and criticism. 


	3. Chapter 1: Aftermath

Pickman was only semi-conscious when he awoke. He could feel his body being carried, supported by what he could only guess was a stretcher.

There were voices as well. Pickman could barely hear them in is his current state. It seemed that his two rescuers were having a conversation.

"Why the hell do we have to save a bloody terrorist!" Shouted the voice ahead of him. "Because of his 'Hellsing' lot who knows what could have happened to Her Majesty and the Royal Family. You can still see the smoke from the bombs they set off across London. Hundreds are dead thanks to these monsters, both soldiers and innocents. I say we just shoot him now. Save the medical system the shame and cost of patching up this filth."

_What?_ Pickman thought. _The Hellsing Organization is no terrorist group. The Royal Family was in no danger tonight. How could we be labeled like this after all we sacrificed for the good of this country?_

The other voice seemed calmer. Pickman, even in his dear death state, could recognize the authoritative tone of a leader.

"We were ordered to search the area for survivors of the Hellsing Organization by Sir Islands himself. You should count yourself lucky that we managed to find one."

_Sir Islands_... Pickman thought. _A member of the Round Table Conference. One of the most powerful men in Great Britain. If we have been labeled as terrorists he would be one of the few people who would know the Hellsing's true mission and be able to help us_.

The subordinate angrily countered his superior. "Sir Islands! Do you know what the rumors are about him? They say he's part of a secret organization that truly rules England. He and that Hellsing bitch are probably in cahoots, planning to rebuild and make a second attempt on the Royal Family."

The leader calmly answered the subordinate. "Sir Islands is a highly ranked official. Whatever circles he's involved in is none of our business. All we need to know is to carry out his orders to the best of our ability. Who knows? There may have been Intel agents with the terrorists and he's looking to recover any survivors. We have no method of knowing what our superior is thinking and no reason to find out."

The subordinate was unsatisfied with the answer. "Still, why do we have to pick up this bastard. The army already came around to pick up their dead and wounded, or so I've been told. Why didn't they just pick him up too? The advance team could have always come back as well after they picked up that queen bitch, Hellsing."

The leader was becoming frustrated at this point. "Again, how many times must I remind you. We are not in charge. Sir Islands is. If he wants the army to take it's own casualties and bring in separate units to clean up the Hellsing group that is his choice. We just follow orders. Now help me get this guy into the ambulance."

_She's alive_. The thought filled Pickman with relief. With Hellsing betrayed, and their military forces destroyed, the survival of Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing was a source of hope. _We can rebuild. The Round Table Conference will set this issue of terrorism straight and Hellsing will rise again._

Pickman could feel himself being hoisted into the waiting vehicle. As he ceased movement he lost consciousness again, only feeling the vehicle beginning to move before his senses left him.

* * *

Seras Victoria was running. Away from Hellsing. Away from the Tower of London. Away from everything. The street names had become blurred with speed and tears as she dashed down the street with unnatural strength. 

She had never felt so betrayed as she had when Commander Fargason was shot. She knew that Hellsing had become a liability to someone very important and now every last soldier under the Hellsing Organization was dead.

She had abandoned the wounded Integra Hellsing back at the tower. The leader of Hellsing had been offered the chance to escape with Seras, but Integra refused. She could not escape and hide in the shadows. It would be the responsibility of Hellsing's leader to turn herself in and face the horrible accusations that Hellsing was enduring.

Seras had been asked to run away by Integra. "Leave this place. Only I must confront the burden of this betrayal. You must not be caught here. Escape and rejoin your master. He'll be able to contact me for further instructions."

Seras knew that, aside from a few witnesses, there was little evidence that she had gone into the tower after Fargason's death. She could return to the Information Retrieval Department and continue to work. Continue to do the work of Hellsing and carry on the legacy of her compatriots.

_No_, she thought. _I can't go back. Sir Integra is in government custody and I'd probably be betrayed and killed like the rest of Hellsing if I were to go back_.

Another fact was causing her to run away from everything. Seras was free. She had drank Alucard's blood at the tower. The command to run was the only thing that her master had left her before his presence was purged from her mind.

Being a vampire was a terrible burden on a human's mind. The bond she shared with Alucard allowed her the freedom to remain herself. It kept her free from the vampiric needs she had inherited, allowing her to satisfy her hunger with only medical blood and remain free of the higher level skills that transformed Alucard into a true monster.

She was now beginning to feel the hunger set in. She could not understand how Alucard had managed to remain in control of his hunger with only preserved medical blood while being able to feel the flow of blood in the living nearby him.

Of course, Alucard had found opportunities to satisfy his hunger. She had been one of those opportunities, as had that irredeemable reporter.

However, Seras no longer had Hellsing to provide her with the medical blood that would keep her urge to kill manageable. It would be up to her will alone to keep her from murdering those around her as she begins to seek a new path.

_Hopefully_, she thought. _I will be strong enough to survive independently. My will has to keep me in line now that Alucard is no longer there to take my mental burden_.

She knew that she was still an officer of Hellsing. She had to take pride in that, just as Fargason had told her.

It would be her only defense against her now thriving vampiric nature.


	4. Chapter 2: Proposition

Author's note: Yet another installment of the alternate universe dedicated to that increasingly less unimportant Captain Pickman. I'll continue this story yet.

* * *

Pickman began to stir out of unconsciousness. _Damn_, he thought. _How will I ever figure out what the hell is going on if I keep blacking out like this_. 

The pain in his head that he had previously endured while trying to stay conscious was gone. The pain in his gut seemed to have faded as well. _Probably painkillers_, he assumed. He figured from the fact that he no longer felt the weight of his uniform, that he had been moved into a hospital bed. Probably operated upon as well, seeing as how he was still alive.

A voice came from above him. "Ah, Sir Islands! The patient seems to be regaining consciousness, how convenient! Looks like you can speak to him after all. But I would advise against stressing him."

Pickman struggled to open his eyes. Through his blurred vision he could see a white clothed individual standing over him, as well as a gray-suited figure turning towards him and beginning to speak.

"Very good Dr. Trevaylian. Oh, may I ask that you would give us some privacy, government secrets and all."

The doctor gave a nod and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. The gray suited man, whom Pickman was beginning to see more clearly, took a seat beside the bed.

Pickman began to recognize the features of the senior Round Table official. Sir Islands was a tall man, graying hair and glasses accompanied by an aging face. He spoke firmly and calmly, obviously a man that liked to dominate his surroundings.

"Captain Pickman. How fortunate that you would have survived the... incident at the Tower of London."

Pickman opened his mouth to respond. After spending a few seconds coughing he managed to rasp "What... of Hellsing? What has happened?".

Islands frowned. "It seems that you know something is amiss. I was hoping to break it to you once you had recovered, but now is as good a time as any. I trust you won't overreact and die from shock, correct?"

Pickman nodded as Sir Islands continued. "Hellsing is gone. The 'former' head of Media Management decided that the organization was becoming too public. In order to maintain security he decided to portray Hellsing as a terrorist organization. This worked well with the battle at the tower. According to media reports, your group was fighting military personnel in an attempt to assassinate the Royal Family. We had no choice but to call upon the army to follow up on the reports. The army mobilized and seized all Hellsing assets and arrested any surviving personnel. Your transformation into terrorists was also a good excuse to explain the damage done to London caused by... well, whatever went on in the tower."

Pickman nodded again, having already known of Hellsing's new reputation.

"At the moment, you, Walter, Sir Integra and a handful of arrested base staff members are the only surviving personnel of the Hellsing Organization. You are the only remaining human field operative. As for Hellsing's undead field operatives, we can only assume that Seras Victoria is dead, having been seen entering the tower. Alucard on the other hand, is no doubt alive, seeing as how he did an excellent job at killing Incognito, the chief enemy vampire behind those SAS freaks. He'll no doubt rejoin Sir Integra at some point."

Pickman was shocked at the idea of being the only remaining Hellsing member outside of government custody, and at the betrayal that Sir Integra had received at the hands of her own supposed allies in the Round Table Conference.

"You are the only free member of the Hellsing Organization. Public opinion has demanded that Integra Hellsing pay for 'her crimes' and Walter will take quite a bit of time to recover from his injuries in the last battle. Since our hands are tied now that the matter is public, Sir Integra has volunteered to accept imprisonment in the Tower of London. It's likely that she and by extension, Alucard and Walter, will remain in captivity for at least five years before we can secretly release them."

Sir Islands paused for a moment, looking Pickman in the eyes. Pickman knew that the senior Round Table member was going to ask him to do something. _He probably wants me to follow Sir Integra on the path to martyrdom_. He thought.

"I managed to concoct a story about you being an undercover MI-5 agent whom managed to infiltrate the Hellsing Organization and save the Royal Family at the critical moment during the battle at the tower. Not only does this story keep you from being murdered in your bed by overzealous medical personnel, but it also clears you of any involvement in the terrorist activities your compatriots are accused of. As so, I would like you to take over the Hellsing Organization."

Pickman gasped at the proposition being made to him.

"With Hellsing gone, we need some kind of protection from the increasing amount of vampire activity. Being the highest ranking officer remaining in Hellsing, I would like you to take over and rebuild the organization from the ground up. The doctors say you'll be fit for duty in two weeks. It's your choice."

Pickman knew it was no choice at all. It was his duty to take the reigns of Hellsing with Integra's sacrifice. _It's the only way to keep the legacy of Hellsing alive_. He thought. _No doubt it would also help Sir Integra cope with prison if she knew that her family's mission was still being carried out_.

"I accept." He managed to say. Slumping back against the pillow with fatigue at having endured Sir Island's debriefing.

"Good." Acknowledged the senior official as he began to rise from his seat and move towards the door. "I'll be seeing you again after you've had time to heal."

Pickman saw a smile begin to appear on the aged features of the man.

"After all, there is no shortage of work to be done in rebuilding England's most respected order." Commented Sir Islands as he closed the door.

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A/N: As usual, any feedback is welcome, and becoming increasingly more welcome as I continue.  



	5. Chapter 3: Tempation

Author's note: Back again. I'm trying to go for a daily update of about 1000 words. Hmm... I myself don't know if I really like this chapter or not, but hey, I'm trying to warp poor Seras here. You'll of course, find out why later.

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Seras Victoria looked down at her blood-soaked hands in shock. _It wasn't supposed to have happened like this_. She thought in anguish. 

She stood at the entrance to the Hellsing Manor's armoury. A bloody path of destruction in her wake. Crushed corpses lay behind her, drained of blood.

She had only intended to come back to the manor to take some blood packets. It had been two and a-half weeks since the battle at the tower and Seras was starving from blood deprivation.

Seras had known that she could easily sneak past the military units stationed at the Hellsing residence. From there she could take the medical blood packets that sustained her. But she had underestimated the lack of control she had over her newly discovered vampire instincts.

She had managed to leap over the fence surrounding the manor easily enough, careful not to trigger any alarms. It was a risk to show herself at this point, with the fate of Hellsing's operatives unsure.

The mistake came at the front door. She had originally intended to simply dash across the grounds, open a window, and sneak into the basement storage facility, but something inside of her took control. Her hunger demanded the deaths of all those in her path and Seras was simply too starved to fight the deafening voice.

Unarmed and possessed by a rising blood-lust, she walked calmly up to the two men guarding the front door. The guard on the left of the door raised his weapon as she approached, the other holding out a hand to indicate she should stop.

"Halt! What are you doi-" Was all the guard on the right managed to say before Seras made a running jump at the guards. Her fangs came down around the neck of the guard on the right before the left one could track her with his rifle.

Seras reveled in the ecstasy of drinking live blood. She had nothing to fear from the other guard, as he had broken down in fright, falling backwards and crawling against the wall.

Seras released the guard in her grip. Watching as the bloodless corpse fell to the ground. She then turned to the remaining guard, a crazed look on her face replacing the innocence she had become characterized with.

The guard could only whimper as Seras approached. He had long since forgotten his rifle and the lack of good it would do him.

Seras picked up the guard. Ripping into his flesh with her hands. She crushed his body and bit down his neck as he screamed in pain.

When it was over, she surveyed the scene. Her clothes were covered in the guard's blood. More blood had splashed from the wound's she had inflicted, staining the walls and ground. With a smile etched on her face, Seras continued into the mansion.

More soldiers waited inside. One man on each side of the hallway and two waiting on the stairs. They had obviously heard the commotion outside, as they had M-16s pointed at her.

She quickly leapt at the soldier on the right side of the hall. The soldiers were unprepared to deal with her speed, failing to track her fast enough as she thrust her hand into the throat of the terrified guard.

Rather than consume the corpse's blood, she quickly jumped at the top of the staircase. The soldiers at the top of the stairs were just starting to comprehend what they were fighting when Seras landed before them. Her arms whipped out at the two men, grabbing them by the necks and lifting.

Seras laughed as she crushed the necks of the two men. She then turned her attention to the remaining man guarding the basement side of the hall. He pulled up his M-16, screaming as he wildly fired up at her.

Seras just stood there as the guard recklessly poured ammo in her direction. Only a couple bullets hit her, simple chest shots that even her limited regeneration could recover from in a few hours. In the meantime however, the damage snapped Seras partly out of her trance. Allowing her to become more aware of what she was doing. It didn't matter though, she was enjoying the massacre too much to allow a little consciousness to stop her.

The soldier's rifle clicked empty as Seras leapt off the staircase at him. The guard could only scream as she grabbed him by the arms and drained his neck. After draining her other three victims, Seras continued into the basement.

The same fate awaited the guard who was stationed outside the freezer room, a bloody corpse when she finally dropped him.

Seras walked into the storage room, feeling the rush of power beginning to fade as she stuffed the medical blood packets into her backpack. She was quickly becoming aware of what she had become. She knew that the government would no longer take this intrusion lightly. They would find out who she was and then hunt her. Yet, she began to welcome the prospect of slaughtering their soldiers.

_After all_. She thought. _Hellsing is gone. The night belongs to vampires now. Not their hunters_.

Her human side struggled against this new line of thought to no avail. Seras had taken her freedom from Alucard far too soon and her vampire side was not forgiving in this mistake.

_I'll need weapons though_. She continued, unhindered by the human memories and personality struggling against her. _Unarmed fighting will only work so well on a group of those chipped freaks, or prepared government soldiers_.

She decided to visit the armoury. She continued through the basement, slaughtering the gathered soldiers waiting for her as if they were nothing. Her speed and strength were enough to quickly push the soldiers into despair, leaving them helpless to Seras' wrath. The walls were quickly becoming more and more stained with blood as her lust for the substance was sated.

By the time she had reached the armoury door her human side had managed to regain control.

_What have I done?_ She thought. _All those men didn't deserve what I had done to them. Is that it? Am I a monster now? Regardless, I'll be hunted now and I'll probably have to kill in order to stay... alive_.

She stepped forwards into the room which contained the Hellsing Arms Company's spare products. She walked past a row of rifles and grenade launchers to find the spare Harkonnen Cannon, her previous one having been destroyed during the battle at the tower.

After strapping the weapon to her back, she noticed Alucard's section of the armoury. After stocking up on spare depleted-uranium shells for the cannon, she surveyed the weapons that her former master tended to use.

There were two spare 454. Casulls laid out on the shelf, with dozens of clips below them. She took the two lighter weapons and their ammo, stuffing her backpack with more weight than the average human could carry in guns and ammo.

As she walked out of the armoury, she noticed the lack of spare 13mm Jackals. _I guess Walter only had one made_. She thought, knowing that the heavier handguns would have been handy in a pinch. _No matter, I'm already prepared to take on any freak or soldier that tries to get in my way_.

Seras Victoria left the Hellsing Manor, jumping the rear wall in order to avoid confronting the dozens of armed units beginning to pour in through the main gate. Leaving no witnesses, only carnage, in her wake.

As she walked down the street away from the mansion, she could feel new contacts in her mind. She could begin to sense the surroundings of her victims, control their actions and see through their eyes.

_They're becoming ghouls_! She thought in shock. _I can't do that to them. I can't condemn them to that existence_. She freed the ghouls from her power, causing them to dissolve.

_What am I becoming?_ She thought, slipping into the shadows.

* * *

A/N: As I have posted in the past. Reviews are welcome! My first review was a great boost to my morale, so a second would be doubly awesome.  



	6. Chapter 4: Debriefing

Author's note: The usual, still plugging away at this. There is still quite a bit more to go on this.

* * *

Pickman looked over the devastation that had occurred in Hellsing's headquarters. _I just get out of the hospital and look what happens_. He thought sarcastically. _I hope this doesn't become characteristic of my command over Hellsing Organization_. 

The newly promoted Commander Pickman looked over the damage in the front hall. Bullet casings littered the floor nearby the basement, and there were numerous bullet holes in the staircase and upper wall. There were no corpses, just piles of ash. There was evidence of human presence in the attacked areas of the mansion however, based on the streaks of blood on the walls and floors.

The aide beside Pickman began to recite the information in his report.

"Based on the military reports, there have been 14 deaths, all soldiers stationed at the manor. Based on the remains of our units we can only conclude that the assailant was a vampire. As you can see, the dead had become ghouls, which for some reason, the vampire chose to self-destruct rather than have them fight the reinforcement units."

The aide flipped to the next page of the report. "The target was unarmed, as the only weapons fire came from our side. After wiping out the guards at the front door and main hallway, the target proceeded to raid the basement facilities, the blood storage and armoury facilities to be specific. The suspect stole a substantial supply of preserved blood, as well as a pair of reserve 454. Casull handguns and ammunition."

Pickman whistled at the thief's choice of arms. The Casull had been Alucard's weapon of choice before Walter had designed the 13mm Jackal. The Casull packed 13mm explosive-tipped silver bullets. More than enough to kill any human or freak-chipped vampire with ease.

"Can we confirm the location of the vampire of Alucard during this attack?" Pickman didn't really suspect that Alucard would attack the Hellsing residence just to get some new guns when he could have easily teleported into and out of the armoury with no one the wiser, but it didn't hurt to ask for an alibi of the immortal monster.

"Ah, no sir. But our list of suspects quickly narrowed when we did the inventory to discover the missing items. It appears that our target took the spare Harkonnen Cannon..."

"Victoria! That is impossible!" Cut in Pickman, outraged at the unspoken accusation. "She would never attack the military in such a brutal manner!" Pickman had served alongside the vampire and trusted in her connection to humanity.

Pickman took a moment to calm himself before speaking. "Even if we could confirm that she had survived the battle at the tower, we still have no evidence of her presence here. At the moment all we know is that a vampire attacked this building, killed 14 men, and stole some very rare and powerful firearms. All we can do at this point is wait for an investigation to turn up some results, or for our new enemy to start firing those stolen weapons, not a pleasing prospect."

The aid seemed subdued for a moment, but quickly moved to the next item. "At the moment the military is busy assembling and training a group of soldiers to make up the new membership of the organization. However, it will be months before the Hellsing membership can be filled. As such, Sir Penwood has authorized the Hellsing Organization to procure a mercenary outfit to continue operations before a proper force can be assembled."

Pickman recognized the name. _Sir Penwood is a prominent military figure and member of the Round Table_. He thought. _They must be desperate to keep the organization on it's feet if they'd be willing to shell out the cash to hire skilled mercenaries_.

Pickman turned to face the aide. "I know just the group for this kind of job." He smirked, knowing that the group's captain would be irate at being thrown into a battle with the supernatural. "But that can wait until later. What are the long-term plans for rebuilding Hellsing?"

The aide flipped a few sheets of paper on report before answering. "Well, Sir Islands has given the Hellsing Organization a maximum size of one-thousand field operatives."

Pickman's jaw nearly dropped at the number of soldiers he would have under his command at the end of the restructuring.

"The current plan is to divide these one-thousand soldiers into five units of two-hundred. Within each unit it would be sub-divided into groups of twenty, with further divisions subject to mission requirements. Each unit would have a commander directly under you, and each squad would also have an appointed captain. There would be at least an additional one-hundred base personnel in charge of coordination and deployment, as well as supply personnel outside of the organization's control. Of course, this arrangement is subject entirely to your approval sir."

Pickman nodded to the aide to indicate his approval. Hellsing would be almost 10 times it's original membership by the end of it's rebuilding. _A small army_, he thought. _What on Earth could be provoking Islands to give me so many men_.

"Of course, our current situation is what concerns the Round Table most at the moment." Continued the aide. "The number of freak-chipped vampires is rising drastically, and the Round Table Conference is lining up a more official mission once we've established ourselves again as a capable fighting force. They want us to choose a mercenary unit and get to work quickly on getting the freak problem under control."

The aide paused, checking his case and pulling out a folder. "Sir, if you would check these files? They contain the information on the candidate groups" He said handing the folder to Pickman.

Pickman tossed aside the folder and smirked at the aide. "I told you that I already knew of the perfect group for this job. Professional, well-trained, and cost-efficient."

The aide was momentarily shocked again, but shook it off and faced his commander. "And which group would this be sir?" He asked.

"The Wild Geese." Pickman answered, nearly laughing at the thought of facing the group and explaining the existence of supernatural creatures to the skeptical mercenaries.

"Very good sir. We'll contact them immediately. Oh by the way sir. The Hellsing Arms Company wanted to have a meeting with you. Something about a letter you had sent to them a few days ago..."

Pickman smiled as he turned towards the office of his former leader, Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing. He had a feeling that the resurgence of her organization would be easier than he had originally thought.

* * *

A/N: Again, reviews kick ass, reviewers kick ass. I would be extraordinarily grateful to receive some reviews, be they criticism, appreciation, or just simple comments. I'm not a picky guy and it's a pretty easy process.  



	7. Chapter 5: Meetings

Disclaimer: Hellsing is not mine. It is not being used for anyone's profit in this case, at least not mine. Any coincidences to real things in the names, places, and dates used in this story, are just that, coincidences.

Author's note: Aw yeah, review number two! See, it also pointed out a major mistake which I had been somehow blocking out due to careless, mechanical updating! That's why I need you guys! Its either that, or find an editor...

* * *

The twelve, now ten, most powerful men in Great Britain sat at the table. The meeting, the first of the Round Table Conference since the battle at the Tower of London, was to discuss the events behind the battle, and the results of their investigation into the matter. 

Sir Islands, the leader of the conference, started the meeting. "As you all know, the country faces problems. Problems that, due to recent events, have become incredibly apparent. With the loss of Sir Integra from our ranks, I feel the need to address the Round Table with these concerns in her stead."

Sir Penwood, a high-ranking general, nodded in approval as Islands continued.

"Our actions regarding the Hellsing Organization may have been too brash. By condemning the group, we've lost our only effective weapon against our newest enemy. An enemy that has more power than we'd like to think. Sir Breen?" He addressed the chief of MI-5.

The man sat up in his seat to give his report. "We have searched the residence of our... former head of Media Management, Sir Maclean. Inside we found several items worthy of explaining his betrayal. Firstly, we discovered a 'Freak Chip' as they've come to be known, it deactivated when we discovered it. As well, we discovered one-way plane tickets to South America, Brazil to be exact."

Sir Islands gestured to the chief to finish before adding. "As you can see, even members of the Round Table Conference are not above the twisted machinations of our new foes. The lure of immortality seemed to have ensnared Sir Maclean. Unfortunate for him, when you consider that he underestimated the time it would take for us to handle the situation he gave us and send out his death warrant."

Sir Penwood seemed shaken by the idea of a top-ranking British official betraying his country in exchange for cheap immortality. "This is an outrage! We need to sweep the entire military for traitors! Immediately!" He shouted.

Islands acknowledged Penwood's suggestion. "That is true. MI-5 and MI-6 are already working on the identities of any more possible traitors. However, we shouldn't attack them yet. What I propose is to re-establish the Hellsing Organization as a decent-sized military force. It's obvious that our enemy has quite a lot in the way of resources, so we need to give any traitors a false sense of security, so as to not alert our enemy as we prepare to confront it."

Penwood agreed with the idea. "In the meantime, we've given Hellsing permission to recruit a mercenary group in order to keep up with the minor chipped vampires we've been seeing far too much of."

Sir Marr, a member of the British Parliament, cut in. "Who do you have leading the organization with Integra gone?" He asked.

Islands answered him. "A former captain in the organization, Chris Pickman. He was the only field operative to survive the battle at the tower. Seems fit to reward him."

Marr had another question. "And what of Sir Hellsing? She has recovered, has she not?"

Penwood shook his head. "Yes, she has. As has Walter. However, Sir Integra is now being jailed. Despite our influence, the eyes of the public are on her. I figure it will be at least five years before we can remove her from captivity. In the meantime, Sir Penwood and I will share her role in the Round Table Conference."

Marr was not yet satisfied. "And what of these enemies you spoke of? Have we any evidence of their existance other than their agents?"

Penwood frowned. "No, we have no idea at all of their true identities..."

* * *

Pickman sat in Integra's, now his, office. The representative of the Hellsing Arms Weapon Industrials had just arrived and was reporting their progress on a certain matter. 

"Well sir, we were a tad surprised when you wrote to us from the hospital a week ago. It was a horribly difficult request." Said Gualterio Lister, chief of development. "Especially with the absence of Walter, man's a genius with weapons you know. However, we managed to put together a basic design after all. We took the spare 13mm Jackal from the Hellsing Armoury yesterday afternoon and are now modifying it for the prototype."

Pickman smiled at the man. "Excellent work. I half expected you to come in and tell me it couldn't be done."

Lister responded lightly. "Well, it was close. I mean, it made sense that with Hellsing's heavy artillery(Seras and Alucard) out of the picture you would like a weapon that could put human troops on par with the damage level of those monsters. But modifying a Jackal into a usable weapon seemed a tad unfeasible."

Pickman frowned, remembering the attack yesterday evening. "At least you got started quickly. I'd have hated to see last night's burglar walk away with one of those handguns. Well, don't keep me waiting. What is the new design?"

Lister smiled in a Walter-esque fashion. _The man must have rubbed off on him_, Pickman thought. The weapon designer pulled out a sketch of the new weapon from his briefcase.

"This is our proudest achievement since the Harkonnen Cannon! The custom Underdog Assault Handgun. We added a stock to the back of the Jackal model in order to increase stability and help absorb the dreadful recoil. We also added a foregrip to allow human soldiers to carry the 36 pound weapon with it's abnormally long barrel. As well, we changed the clip and loading mechanism. The gun now uses a 15-round top-mounted clip, similar to the FN-P90's 50 round clip. The weapon's high velocity projectiles allowed us to include a scope, for sniping, and a laser targeting mechanism for medium range combat. The bullets have been downgraded due to cost issues, but they still outclass the Casull's ammunition."

Pickman smirked, remembering the awesome performance the Jackal had shown during the battle at the tower. _Of course Alucard never needed a weapon like that_, he thought. _His natural power far outclassed those freaks. The gun was merely a novelty to him. Just another instrument for having fun in battle. Just another example of why we need more power in order to replace our undead allies_.

Lister continued his description of the new and powerful firearm. "We made further alterations to the gas discharge system in order to better decrease the recoil. The Underdog's look has changed little from the Jackal. We kept the uniform black, as well as the writing along the side." _Jesus Christ is in heaven now_. Pickman recalled. _With a weapon like this, my men won't be so quick to join him there this time around_.

"When it be ready to produce?" Pickman asked, eager to get his hands on the weapon.

Lister smiled again, pleased with the reception his modifications had received. "We should have the prototype ready for tomorrow. From there it will be field tested, probably on one of your missions, and if it passes it will enter mass-production within the week. A tad rushed, but the Jackal was an already proven design. I have to give Walter credit for having designed the perfect weapon for a vampire hunter. Even if it's user had to be one in order to effectively use it."

Pickman dismissed Lister, pleased with the results of the meeting. Before the man could stand up, shouting broke out from the front door.

"Where the hell is Pickman! This better be a damn joke!"

"Mr. Bernadotte! Could you please settle down?"

The shouting continued up the stairs towards his office. Pickman sighed as he prepared for his next meeting, one that would prove to be both annoying and entertaining.

* * *

A/N: Trying to build the anticipation before the action begins. Of course, as usual, any input at all is welcome. My first two reviews on this story have been dynamite. I'm hoping for a repeat. I mean, such a harsh error I was committing unwittingly. I need you guys to snap me out of stuff like that, please. Also, remember. I can hardly tell if people are reading this unless I see some reviews. Hit stats are pretty darn inconclusive. Sorry if I seem a little pushy. Maybe adding a pairing to the summary would work... Hmm... PxS, AxI? 


	8. Chapter 6: Anticipation

Author's note: This is it. The final preparatory chapter before the action begins!

* * *

Captain Pip Bernadotte of the Wild Geese mercenary unit was pissed off. He and his men had been dragged all the way to London, a city he hated by the way, for the most pathetic reason ever. To hunt fairy-tales! 

"Vampires!" He shouted as he stomped up the Hellsing Manor's central staircase with a shocked secretary in pursuit. "Damn it Pickman! This is a very stupid joke!"

Pip remembered the new leader of Hellsing from a few encounters between the Wild Geese and Pickman's former military unit. Pickman had been impressed by the skills of the Wild Geese and kept an open mind to the mercenaries, unlike his prouder compatriots at the time.

_I guess that wasn't true_. Thought Pip, as he moved towards the former office of Integra Wingates Hellsing. _But this is ridiculous! Bastard going out of his way to humiliate us with this bullshit_!

_Well, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind!_ He thought in outrage. _The Wild Geese are not to be fucked around with by stuck-up British military bastards! We'd better be getting paid for this waste of time_.

He finally reached the office door, slamming it open with a mighty shove.

* * *

Pickman sat calmly behind the desk as Pip shoved open the door to the office. Gualterio Lister, to his credit, acted calmly as well in the situation, making a swift exit past the irate mercenary captain. 

"Chris! You son of a bitch! To think I thought of you as a friend!" Shouted Pip. Pickman cringed at the harsh tone.

Pickman knew that he had to establish the legitimacy of the mission the Wild Geese had been assigned before Pip would settle down.

_If only Seras or Alucard were here_, he thought regretfully. _I could give them a first hand demonstration of the existence of these so-called fairy tales_.

"Look, Pip. I chose your unit for a reason here. Your unit is one of the few we've found that have the training and skill to stand up to the threat this country currently faces." He said, trying to calm down the mercenary captain.

"Very funny! The elite 'imagination squad'. Got any werewolves or aliens to fight while we're at it?"

"I'm being serious here. The Hellsing Organization has existed for over a century. You aren't supposed to know about the existence of vampires, the organization has succeeded in keeping that information from the public."

The captain snidely responded to this statement of Hellsing's competence. "Then why do you need mercenaries? Why don't you have your own 'vampire hunters'? What, did Buffy quit on you?"

Pickman frowned as he remembered the circumstances that had led to Hellsing's lack of personnel. Ghouls overrunning the mansion, and men being overpowered by the monstrous transformed SAS team. Pickman retained his composure as he continued.

"We've encountered some new and bold enemies. Ones who have taken interest in directly attacking this organization. We've lost over two-hundred men between two separate incidents."

Pip frowned apologetically. "Sorry, but you can't just expect me to believe in this kind of stuff. Got any vampires around to demonstrate? Preferably a mignonette. Female company is a bit rare in the unit."

Pickman nearly laughed at the thought of how Seras would have taken his choice of words, but was sobered by the knowledge that she was dead. _At least her transformed body is finally at peace now_, he thought.

"No, we lost the two vampires under the organization's control. However, we have been building up a target list for once the organization is ready for action. The new vampires we've been facing are bold, which makes them easy to locate. Tomorrow you, I, and a squad of your men will be paying a few of these freaks a visit. It ought to give you a feel for dealing with them."

Pip nodded seriously. "Well, I haven't seen it yet, but I'll have my men go through the briefings on vampires. We'll be ready for whatever happens tomorrow. I'll just trust your word on this one, that, and we'll be getting paid. Right?"

Pickman smiled, knowing that Pip now more-or-less believed him, and was willing to brief his men on how to fight freaks. "Yes, you will be paid until the unit is finished being rebuilt. Oh yeah, before you go. Welcome to Hellsing."

Pip smiled in return before turning to leave. "Thanks, besides, I have a feeling that this will be a well earned payment you'll be giving us."

* * *

A trench-coated man walked the streets of London. He could feel the corruption around him. 

_Damned heathens!_ He thought to himself. _Well, that is going to change soon, isn't it?_ _As soon as we take over the extermination of sacrilegious beasts from these devil-worshippers, they will acknowledge us_ _as the true path_.

The mission that Paladin Brand had been given were simple. Spearhead the coming invasion of the Iscariots. With the loss of Hellsing, Bishop Maxwell of Section XIII had decided to fill the void. This was not done out of pity for Great Britain's mostly damned population. If the Vatican intervened, the government of Great Britain would become dependent on them to control the vampire problem in place of Hellsing. From there they would gain concessions from the government. Within a generation they could convert a large portion of the population.

_Of course_, he thought. _Maxwell's rivalry with Hellsing is another motivating factor, and what better victory for him to win than the souls of his rival's nation_.

He would be given his specific orders tomorrow, by phone. They would include a list of chipped vampires for him to eradicate, forwarded by a spy in MI-5. Of course, Brand would be doing some of his own hunting in the meantime.

He was one of the Vatican's moderately important assassins. He had been given similar 'gifts' to the lead paladin of the Iscariot Organization, Alexander Anderson. The regeneration bio-technology allowed humans to have the strength to fight vampires at close range and heal from impossible wounds. Brand's implants were less effective than Anderson's. He was still vulnerable to large amounts of gunfire, as well as head-shots from high-calibre weapons. Yet he was still certain that he could complete his mission independently.

He looked at the creature he was currently stalking as an example of that. A poor, shuffling, chipped monster. It held the form of a ragged young man.

The monster feared the afternoon sun, huddling in the shadows of an alleyway. Brand approached it boldly, watching for sudden moves.

The creature finally noticed him when he was about ten meters away. It hissed and leaped at him in the darkness. Before it could reach the paladin, a solid bolt of silver was fired into it's head.

Brand stood before the monster as it vanished into a pile of dust. A crossbow in his right hand, and a large combat knife in the other. He looked at the monster's true components and laughed.

"We are the ministers of God!" He shouted into the empty alleyway. "In flaming fire we take vengeance on them that know not god, and that obey not the Catholic Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ: Who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power-this honor have all his saints! Amen!"

He put away his instruments of purification, trembling in anticipation of the holy massacre soon to come. "And this time there is no Hellsing to get in our way!"

* * *

A/N: The anticipation has been built, and I get to introduce an original Iscariot. Yes he is insane. I figure it's a pre-requisite for that organization to have some kind of mental deficiency(schizophrenia, wild aggression and uh... muteness.) 

Also, yes, I'll be covering the manga events from my storyline's perspective. Not a true remake by any means though.


	9. Chapter 7: Encounters

Author's note: OK, I'm finished with meetings and briefings now. With this chapter, the action begins, oh and I've finally hit over 10,000 words! A first for me, and it only took about twelve days, three of which were not used for writing. I'm trying to keep this the most frequently updated Hellsing fic and I think I'm succeeding. After all, if you write it, they will come(as long as it is well written).

* * *

The next day a pair of Hellsing APCs drove down the streets of London, the twenty men within them preparing for their first confrontation with the mythical creatures known as vampires. 

Commander Pickman and Captain Pip were in the lead APC. Pip was going over an M4 carbine in preparation for the attack. Pickman was going over the weapon he was to be field testing on the mission, the 13mm Underdog Custom Assault Handgun.

Pickman was beyond impressed at the speed with which the gun had been designed and modified. Despite it's hasty construction, the modified Jackal was a powerful weapon. It's new appearance suggested it was an SMG, but the gun kept it's semi-automatic firing rate, allowing every powerful bullet to count on a target with maximum accuracy. Pickman was well-satisfied with it's performance on the targeting range before the mission.

Pickman got up to brief the team. "All right. We are going to be breaking into the homes of our freak enemies. In most cases these will be apartments. In these cases it is likely that our vampire will have converted his neighbors into ghouls. During apartment intrusions we will proceed in sweeping fashion. Confirm your targets to be NHB(Non-Human Beings) before firing. If all goes well we will get through the list without any casualties."

Pickman looked at the mercenaries, now in Hellsing uniform. _Should I?_ He thought to himself, looking at the skeptical warriors. _Ah, what the hell, it's tradition_. He began to recite the prayer that Fargason had popularized amongst the Hellsing ranks. "In the name of god, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation!".

The men didn't laugh because of the serious tone he was using, but they didn't acknowledge him. Pickman sighed, wondering if Hellsing's true spirit would ever return without Integra to guide them.

The two APCs arrived at the first target, an old apartment building that no one had been able to contact for a few days. Police officers had been sent in to investigate the area, but disappeared before reporting. The matter had been put on hold until Hellsing could be brought in.

Pickman led the twenty man team into the building, Pip following closely. Pickman faced the front door and shattered smashed through the wooden frame with a solid kick. He immediately noticed a pair of police ghouls waiting in the central hallway, handguns raised. The two ghouls reacted sluggishly to the intrusion, giving Pickman enough time to open fire on them.

The first two shots were all that it took to end the threat, as the Underdog rounds shattered the ghouls with ease, tearing huge holes into them. Pickman was stunned at the weapon's power, barely feeling the gun's still awesome recoil.

Knowing that the vampire was now alert, he shouted to the men. "Move down the central hallway, keep an eye on the ceilings of staircases and rooms. As you reach each door, send a two-man team inside the room to sweep for ghouls. We now know that every human in the area is likely dead, so no restrictions on use of force. Move!"

The men took off down the hall. Pip and Pickman waited at the front door, coordinating the unit. After a few engagements with ghouls they received a radio transmission. "We've engaged the target, it's not a ghoul! It just took off down the second floor hall, we can't get a bead on it! It's moving towards the window!"

Both men turned their heads towards the street as they heard a crash from the window above. A freak landed outside the building, fear of Hellsing obviously overpowering it's fear of daylight.

The creature began to run down the street. Both men opened fire, Pip's automatic rounds managed to get a light hit on the creature's leg, giving Pickman a chance to move the laser pointer of his Underdog over the creature and fire. The bullet tore into the freak's chest, opening a huge hole in the creature, and causing it to emit an unearthly scream as it dissolved into dust.

"Nice shot." Remarked Pickman, commenting on the stunning leg hit which gave him time to finish off the vampire.

"Likewise." Replied Pip, reloading his weapon.

Pickman turned on his headset. "We've taken care of the target, how are you doing with the ghouls?"

"Easy money," Came the reply. "Those stupid zombies just came at us unarmed, no ambushes or anything. We just mowed them down."

Pickman was almost disgusted with the lack of intelligence their target had exhibited. _Why are worthless street punks like these given such power?_ He thought, though not regretting the lack of challenge, unlike Alucard would be. _Speaking of Alucard, where the hell has he gone off to anyways? He should have at least contacted Sir Integra by now_.

The process continued for three hours, and six more targets, most of whom were so careless as to be caught sleeping by the Hellsing mercenaries. The final, and largest, target would likely prove to be more interesting.

A nightclub was the target. Intelligence had reported a large number of missing people in the area, and the staff of the club had become increasingly reclusive, living inside the building and only allowing people inside during the night. Intel had pinned the number of vampires at three, with at least 20 ghouls supporting.

The APCs stopped outside the club, men quickly disembarking and taking up defensive positions along the street. Pickman and Pip, who was now quite a bit more serious about the existence of vampires, led a group of five inside to secure the entrance.

What they found inside was a sight more than enough to scare any Hellsing soldier who had been fortunate enough to survive an encounter with Iscariot into running away screaming. Scripture lined the walls, pages supported by small, silver bolts. There were no corpses, only piles of dust where vampires and ghouls had once stood. Each of those piles also contained a number of silver bolts.

A figure began to walk out of the shadows towards the group. "To think there were fools of your kind left in this city of the damned!" Boomed the voice of the figure. "To be on the streets again so soon... To think you haven't yet learned your lesson!" The figure, now revealed to be a trench-coated man, laughed after mocking the Hellsing troops.

"Damned Vatican!" Bit out Pickman, as he recognized the signs of their rivals at work, despite being fortunate enough to have never encountered them.

"Ha! No, no... The only ones damned here are you and your comrades. Seven little fingers of the Devil at work!" The Iscariot remarked. Pickman, Pip, and the five men behind them raised their weapons at the priest.

"Who are you?" Asked Pip, unaware of Iscariot's role as the Hellsing Organization's rivals.

"I am Paladin Brand of the Vatican's Section XIII! An Iscariot!" He shouted in return to the question. "To think that you heathens are so ignorant these days! Hahahaha!" He laughed again at the soldiers of Hellsing. "Although, I suppose it matters not how educated you are, when you're inevitably doomed to the same hell as those creatures!" He pointed at the piles of dust and silver bolts littering the ground.

The paladin continued his speech. "And now we part ways! You can rest assured that although my orders are to kill any who interfered with my work, I would have done it without provocation regardless!" He began to reach into his coat.

One of the rear soldiers fired on Brand at that point. The paladin brought his left arm up to shield his face, only to be caught in the chest by a burst of MP5 ammo. He fell backwards to the floor, blood flying from the wounds.

The mercenary who shot Brand laughed. "Hah! All talk, no action! To think, a loser like this managed to waste all these freaks!" He began to walk towards the supposedly downed paladin.

Pip began to withdraw towards the exit. "I'll get the rest of the men and we'll begin sweeping the inside." Pickman nodded as the mercenary captain left through the entrance.

Pickman's attention was then forced upon the mercenary who had been taunting Brand. The man was flying backwards, the back of his helmet exploded with blood as a projectile soared through it.

Pickman saw the paladin beginning to stand up. A crossbow was clutched in his right hand, and a large combat knife had appeared in the other. As soon as he saw the silver crossbow bolt clutched with the knife, he knew to dodge.

Pickman dropped into a roll as Brand's left arm snapped up to reload the crossbow at lightning speed while still holding the knife. The paladin lunged past Pickman, towards the four men behind him who were slower to react.

Brand's combat knife tore into the chest of the rightmost soldier before the man could scream. He lifted the body using the knife and rest his crossbow on the man's shoulder before firing. The shot tore into the next soldier, a bolt striking him through the heart.

By then the other two soldiers had shaken off the surprise and had begun to fire. Brand simply raised the corpse he was holding as a shield, using it to absorb the bullets. He then thrust forward with his left arm, shaking free the body from his knife and sending it flying into one of the soldiers. He charged the other man, using his heavy crossbow to knock away the man's gun while he thrust into the mercenary's neck with his knife.

The remaining mercenary was stabbed in the face as he struggled to shove the corpse of his comrade off of himself. The paladin performed another lightning reload before firing a bolt into the section of wall above the door. The already unstable structure began to collapse, burying the entrance and leaving Pickman to confront the paladin alone.

* * *

A/N: My longest chapter yet, but of course things haven't even started yet. After all, there is still a battle to occur, and what is going on with everyone's favorite vampire in denial(well, she's much more in touch with her vampiric side now)?

Well, I've said it before and I'll say it again. Reviews are awesome. Personally, I'd like some more(call me greedy). The current count is at two(technically). Reviews are handy. Moral support and editing combined. If you have any advice on how you'd like the story, or things I'm doing wrong. Hey, author's respond to reviews and I appreciate your support, even if you hate the story.


	10. Chapter 8: Confrontation

Author's note: This is the continuation from the last chapter, sorry for the cliff-hanger to those reading out there in computer-land. Oh yeah, and please review. I cannot stress the importance of a little acknowledgment.

* * *

Paladin Brand faced Pickman from the club's entrance, now collapsed and blocking the rest of Pip's unit. The corpses of five mercenaries lay in a bloody heap behind him. Pickman was left alone to square off against the Vatican assassin. 

Pickman decided not to imitate the paladin by foolishly talking before a battle. Instead he raised his gun and fired. The paladin had already started to move by the time the round was fired at him, managing to avoid the bullet as he dodged to the left.

Pickman struggled to keep his aim on the rapidly moving paladin as he charged at the Hellsing commander. He fired six shots to no avail as the paladin proceeded to duck and weave around the Underdog's laser sight. The paladin was still approaching Pickman quickly, knife in hand.

Pickman broke his firing stance at the last second and rolled away from Brand's knife thrust. He snapped out of the roll with dizzying speed and fired a quick shot at the paladin as he charged to follow up on the dodged thrust.

Brand hadn't been expecting the counter-attack and the shot succeeded in grazing him, the near miss succeeding in tearing away a chunk of flesh from the paladin's side.

The injured Iscariot quickly leapt back, avoiding another two shots, as he readied his crossbow to end the encounter at range. The bolt fell into his knife hand from his sleeve. He followed up with raising his left arm with inhuman speed to reload the crossbow in his right hand, while taking aim at Pickman.

Pickman dodged to the right just as the shot was fired, the crossbow bolt sailing through some stray hairs where his head had been less than a second ago. The paladin, convinced that his opponent was now on the run, stood his ground and reloaded.

Pickman knew that he had a window of opportunity and acted on it, snapping his gun up and firing a shot before he could even see the laser pointing at Brand. The shot tore into the side of Brand's crossbow, knocking it away even as it began to fire at Pickman. The shot went wide from the interruption, and the crossbow rapidly disintegrated under the damage done by the powerful 13mm round.

Brand paused to throw the now-useless weapon aside in disgust, only to forget that Pickman still held him in his sights. The next shot tore into the paladin's right side, sending the man flying back and spinning to the ground.

The paladin managed to avoid a finishing shot from Pickman by throwing his knife at the Hellsing commander. Pickman dodged the combat knife with relative ease, it being a far less aerodynamic weapon than one of Anderson's bayonets.

Pickman turned his attention back to the downed paladin, only to see the assassin covered in flying pages of scripture. He quickly decided to shoot the man, firing into the fluttering pages. The scripture however, somehow managed to deflect the shot. Pickman fired his last two rounds into the flurry of pages, hoping to hit the paladin before he could recover.

Pickman quickly ejected the top-mounted clip, reaching to his belt for another. As he did this, the field of scripture exploded with an angered paladin lunging at the commander, a new knife pointed ahead of him.

Pickman had just mounted the clip when he noticed the lunging paladin. He leapt back, the momentum helping to lock the clip in place. He fired at the paladin point-blank, the round catching Brand in the center of the chest even as the recoil from Pickman's improper handling of the gun(firing one-handed while in the air) pushed him to the ground.

Pickman stood up and moved towards the paladin, gun raised. The paladin was apparently not able to cope with the gaping hole in the center of his chest, unable to regenerate on such a large scale. The assassin of god shook with rage at the thought of having been defeated. He couldn't believe that an embodiment of god's will such as himself could have lost, let alone be killed, in battle against evil.

The paladin began to quiver as his body failed him. Looking up at Pickman, helpless for the first time in his career, he spoke. "You...may kill me...but! The others WILL come... They will destroy this land, and drop each and every one of you to hell... I can't believe that it's gods will... that I can't stay on this Earth to personally see it through! But your time will come... and I'll be watching from above to laugh as you fall! Gwahahahaha...!" The paladin began to laugh, but was cut off by coughs.

Pickman shook his head in anger as the paladin's body began to spasm, taking an abnormally long time to die from such a large wound. The man finally fell limp after a few seconds.

Pickman had just started towards the front door when the back entrance flung open with a bang. Pickman spun around, raising his gun, only to see Pip and a group of soldiers dash into the room. He lowered his weapon as the mercenary captain approached.

Pip looked down at the corpse of paladin Brand and whistled. "Damn, you never told me we'd have to fight this kind of monster."

Pickman looked away before responding. "That's because this monster is of a completely different sort than the ones we should be fighting. These Iscariot creatures fight not for food, survival or immortality. They do it under the orders of god's proxies... What arrogance, for them to attack a nation simply because they were rejected here."

Pickman turned again to face the men. "Take the body of this 'paladin' with us. We'll send him back to the Vatican with a message, 'Hellsing is back, and this country is not, and never will be, yours to interfere with'. They should get the message and start to remember to honor our previous treaties of non-interference."

Pickman doubted it though. A confrontation between Iscariot and Hellsing had been long in the making, and this act of war would be more than enough to provoke them into a larger-scale attack. _All the more reason to rebuild quickly_, thought Pickman as he began to move towards the back door.

* * *

A female figure watched from the shadows of the street as the Hellsing APCs disembarked from the club. _How dare they use the Hellsing uniform!_ Thought Seras Victoria, former officer of the organization. _How dare they lock up Sir Integra, kill our people, and then masquerade as them!_

Seras watched as the APCs drove away, raising a mock-salute to her future hunters. _I think I've changed my mind on this_, she thought. _This may actually be quite allot of fun! I'll finally have a chance to avenge Commander Fargason, Sir Integra and the honor of our Hellsing Organization_. She knew that her vampire side was controlling her, but her humanity had been far too shattered by betrayal and regret over her actions to stop now.

_They will pay!_ She thought in anger. _They just don't know what forces they've brought down upon themselves_.

* * *

A/N: OK, another chapter finished. Remember to review, please? looks pleadingly at reader. Oh, um, sorry. It appears I've become review addicted. Although if I was looking for those, I should've made a romance or comedy with canon pairings, although the canon pairings will likely appear sometime here. Heh... 

But anyways. Brand is dead, having lasted a whole three chapters, and now it appears that Seras will be the next enemy that the newly re-constructed Hellsing Organization must face. Can they succeed? Well... I know, but I'm not about to tell you the answer!


	11. Chapter 9: Trap

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing. Nuff' said.

Author's note: Another thrilling installment, also another 'Evil Seras kicking ass' chapter. Seems sort of sadistic to shape her into a villain, but hey.

Also, in response to Zaisha. I'm not certain how I want to end the 'Evil Seras Saga'. I'm debating on either going with a popular consensus, or a coin toss. I have it planned either way, though Seras is one of my favorite characters, so I wouldn't really worry about it ending in major tragedy.

* * *

Seras Victoria, former officer of Hellsing, stood before the door of a run-down house. She had been watching it's occupants for a few hours and was ready to use them for her 'test'. The three beings inside the home were freak-vampires. _Worthless creatures_, she thought. _But they'll do for the purpose I've planned for them_. She kicked open the door and faced the surprised monsters.

The freaks were sitting around a TV. Unprepared for the intrusion, they reacted slowly to Seras' presence. Seras quickly held out the dual Casulls that she had stolen from the Hellsing Manor and fired. The two vampires she had targeted quickly dissolved into ash, gaping holes in their foreheads.

The third vampire, unfazed by his comrade's deaths, leapt out at the crazed police girl. Seras holstered her guns and bared her fangs at the freak, preparing to intercept it's attack.

The freak's lunge carried it straight into Seras' fist as she swung to halt the monster. She then followed up by literally tearing it limb from limb, using her superior strength and speed to subdue the freak. She stopped only when the former monster had been reduced to a scattered collection of blood-covered pieces.

She refused to consume the blood of the pathetic creature, instead wiping off the blood which had found it's way onto her and moving towards the building's phone. She smiled to herself, knowing that the monsters she had killed were serving a higher purpose in helping her carry out her plan against the new 'Hellsing'.

* * *

Pickman was in the office of his former leader when the call came in. He quickly answered it. "This is Pickman, what's going on?". The voice on the other end was one of the deployment officers.

"Sir, we just got a call forwarded to us from the local police department. It goes as follows." His voice cut off as the recording played.

A female voice came on the line. "Help! There are these monsters, zombies! They're killing everyone! Please hel..." The voice cut off as the line was pulled.

Pickman was reconnected with the officer a moment later.

"The call came from a home in one of London's more... run down areas. There has already been a few suspected vampire attacks in the area, so it isn't improbable that there are freaks at work here."

Pickman spent a moment thinking before giving his orders to the officer.

"All right, we need to proceed carefully. After all, the last time Hellsing received a call like this it was a trap." He remembered back to the ambush planned by the Valentine Brothers. A call was sent to lure Hellsing soldiers into a booby-trapped warehouse. "Send in a twenty man team. Tell them to expect mostly ghouls, but freaks are likely about. No estimation on enemy strength. No restrictions on use of firepower, there probably aren't any survivors in the area."

Pickman rose from his desk, deciding to give the troops a proper Hellsing send-off. _Despite being mercenaries_, he thought. _They are still soldiers of Hellsing! And I plan to treat them as such. It's the least I can do for having sent some of them to their deaths already_. He remembered the viscous Paladin Brand, cutting down the nearly helpless mercenaries as they tried to comprehend his inhuman powers.

One thing bothered him as he moved down the central staircase. _That voice_, he thought. _From the recording_. _ Despite all the interference, it seemed almost familiar_. Pickman shoved the thought aside as he exited the manor.

* * *

Pip stood at the back of one of the two assembled APCs, ordering his men on the circumstances of the operation, when Pickman came out the front door of the Hellsing Manor. The commander moved over to the assembled group of mercenaries.

"I know that all of you are mercenaries. You hold no loyalty except to your unit and your mission. But I'd like you to know that you are what stands between Hellsing, no, between this country, and destruction. That makes you worthy members of this honorable organization. May God and Her Majesty watch over you, Amen."

Pip fell silent at the praise. Wondering what the hell he was doing, becoming attached to an organization like this, in a country and city he was beginning to hate less and less.

The soldiers of Hellsing filed into the APCs, leaving Pip and Pickman to watch as they disembarked.

Pip looked over at Pickman and asked, "Think they'll be OK?"

Pickman nodded to the mercenary captain. "I think they'll be just fine. You have a tough band of soldiers, it'll take more than some ghouls and a freak vampire or two to take them down."

Little did he know of the true circumstances behind the trap he was sending the men into.

* * *

The APCs came to a stop outside the residence. The first APC deployed a unit of ten soldiers, all of which moved to encircle the house in order to cut off the escape routes of their target, as well as prevent an ambush. The second APC deployed the entry unit, another ten men, splitting up to move to the various windows that could serve as entrances, as well as the front and back doors.

The signal was given by the unit captain, a simple radio command of "Move" and the entry unit simultaneously smashed in every available door and window as they broke into the dwelling.

Seras had little interest in hiding behind such cowardly devices such as bombs. She simply waited upstairs as the mock Hellsing unit swept the lower floor. She could hear every word that came from the lower level, including the radio broadcast by the unit captain.

"First floor is clear, three corpses, looks like two gunshot victims and one... dismembered, badly. We're moving to secure the second floor. All men, be careful, if our target is still here, it's on the second floor."

Seras moved into a nearby bedroom, closing the door behind her as the troops moved up the staircase.

As a precaution, the mercenaries divided across the floor, searching the empty opened rooms before finally reaching the closed bedroom. The soldiers moved into a breaching set up, one man ready to kick open the door with two men on either side to support. The mercenary kicked open the door, gun forward, only to be confronted with the greatest surprise of his now all-to-short life.

Seras stood, waiting at the back of the room, the barrel of her Harkonnen Cannon pointed towards the door. The poor mercenary didn't even have a chance to scream in terror before the cannon was fired. The explosive shell tore through the man and detonated, wiping out the gathered forces outside the room.

Four men lay in the hallway as Seras stepped out. Five, if you counted the scattered ashes of the Harkonnen's initial victim. She continued towards the stairs, strapping the cannon to her back, as she heard the trampling of reinforcements moving to help their now-deceased comrades.

The first soldier to climb the stairs after the explosion came face-to-face with Seras. He barely had time to register her as a threat and raise his gun before a Casull round blew his head apart with explosive force.

The remaining soldiers raised their weapons at Seras. A futile gesture. The vampiress let them fire their MP5s, she returning the favor with her Casulls.

In the time she had taken to finish the three soldiers she had sustained only a few minor gunshot wounds. The wounds no longer disturbed her, instead filling her with exhilaration as the smells of blood and battle filled her.

The unit captain had retreated to the outside of the building, rallying the men there into a defensive formation. _Futile_, thought Seras. _And as easy as it would be to simply walk out and shoot them, I may as well show them how outmatched they really are_.

She unstrapped her Harkonnen cannon, reloaded, and moved to a window overlooking the front of the property. She took aim and fired, destroying one of the two APCs in an explosive burst.

From there she used the Casulls, firing from the window to slaughter the poorly organized Hellsing pretenders. She toyed with them, pausing the massacre to destroy the second APC. The men returned fire at the window to no avail, their panicked shots coming nowhere near the crazed vampiress. She ceased fire when only the captain remained standing.

She leaped out the window to confront him, shouting. "This is what you get for what you did to us! Hellsing wasn't yours to throw away when we were no longer wanted! Our lives weren't for you to end on a whim! So many dead, and they all died trusting Queen and Country! For what?"

She stood over the defeated captain, picking him up by the neck. The man had broken down at this point and was crying for mercy, though she had none remaining in her soul.

Seras dropped the corpse when she was finished with it, having drained it of blood. She put a bullet in it's head to prevent it from becoming a ghoul, although she was becoming less inclined against the idea of creating the zombie servants.

She could feel her power growing with each battle she had, and there was something new within her as well. A growing presence, formerly only dwelling in her mind, was beginning to force it's way into Seras' physical form, covering her with a dark aura.

She couldn't help but laugh at the success of her plan. She would destroy these bastard Hellsing pretenders one unit at a time. There would be no grand attack. She would force fear into their hearts as they lost unit after unit. Finally, when they were no longer willing to deploy troops, she would strike. Laying waste to the monsters who imprisoned Sir Integra and stripped Hellsing of it's honor was becoming a dream for her.

She continued laughing as she faded into the night. Walking away as approaching sirens grew closer to the house where only the dead resided.

* * *

A/N: I really appreciate the reviews and hits I've received so far. Any of my previous reviewers can feel free to repeat, comment on the direction of the story and what-not. Remember, the readers are the lifeblood of a story, not the author. I just need to know you guys exist and I'm good to go! 


	12. Chapter 10: Reunion

Author's note: Hi everybody. It seems that I've been keeping my promise of an update every day pretty well so far. I can't say I've been stressing myself on working on this though, so no worries about my mental health.

Continuing, another chapter of the 'Evil Seras Saga' I'll be ending that pretty soon, a week give or take, and start moving into the Millennium Organization. Although I'd really like to research them more before writing about them.

And yeah, Zaisha, you caught me on the 'terrorists in public' issue. I simply figure that the public knows so little of Hellsing that they wouldn't recognize the uniform. As for the emblem, you would have to be pretty close to see it, and I figure that anyone that close to a Hellsing mission would have more on their minds than their rescuers' uniforms. Also, Hellsing seems to have decent media control. So a stray call to the police or press would be pretty insignificant. The uniform is also tradition! Can't have Hellsing without the uniforms.

Heh, Alucarditis, a great name for Seras' condition, except she seems more out-of-control than Alucard, more interested in killing than a challenge. I blame her immature independence from him, oh yeah, and me(as the writer and all).

* * *

Pickman stood in silence as the report was given by an officer. _Damn_, he thought. _This wasn't how things were supposed to go! It was a routine mission. According to evidence found at the scene it was only one freak that they were up against!_

"Sir, we've finished analyzing the gunshot wounds and explosive damage. We have determined that the missing Hellsing equipment, two 454. Casulls and a Harkonnen Cannon, were used on the troops. As a side note, only three shots were fired from the cannon, matching the small number of rounds that were stolen, likely due to carrying restrictions of the thief."

"Damn." Responded Pickman. "I was hoping we'd have more time before we confronted our burglar from a few days ago, but it seems that time is not on our side."

The officer continued. "What's more, we've analyzed the footprints found on the scene. They come from female Hellsing officer uniform, standard issue."

"No..." Pickman was in shock. _Could that voice from the recording be_... He was about to cut the line of thought when he realized it would be putting Hellsing in danger to ignore obvious conclusions.

"Did we analyze the voice from last night?" Pickman asked.

"Yes sir, the results were inconclusive. All we know is that it was a female caller, the exact voice was disguised and distorted by interference."

"Well, there is only one logical conclusion. Seras Victoria is our new enemy. She possessed the knowledge of Hellsing to break into the armoury, and although I can't begin to imagine her having slaughtered so many men, she is vampire."

The officer saluted, and left having completed the report. Pickman lowered his head in thought. _Seras is our enemy... Why would she have done this? Even with what the military did that night at the tower, no one deserves this! She must be stopped, and I'll personally find out what is motivating this!_

Pickman stood, holding his head high he left the office. Pip was waiting for the commander outside.

"What happened out there?" He asked.

"It was a real vampire, not one of these chipped freaks we've been hunting." Pickman responded. "A former officer of this organization, Seras Victoria."

Pip looked puzzled. "Hey, I remember reading her file when we first got here. A real looker, but isn't she dead, er, permanently dead now?"

"She should be. There was no trace of her at the tower, although witnesses saw her enter. She must have fled after the battle. She was the one who attacked the manor a few days ago as well."

Pip had a hard time believing that, based on the information from her file, and it showed on his face. "Well." He said. "If she was responsible for what happened to my men last night, I'll ice her myself."

Pickman frowned. "Well, I'd really like to hear her side of this. But if she's a threat, I'm not putting any lives on the line by trying to talk it out."

The two separated paths and went about their respective businesses until night came.

* * *

The ringing of the phone interrupted Pickman's paperwork. He quickly reached for the phone and answered it.

"Hello, who is it?" He asked.

"Sir." Came the voice. "A call was just forwarded to us from the London police. It pertains to our current difficulties. I'll put it on now." A click came from the line as Pickman was redirected.

It was a woman's voice, desperate, and definitely not Seras, that came on the line. "There's a woman in our apartment! She says she'll kill us if Hellsing doesn't come! Please help us!"

Pickman slammed his fist on the desk. _Hostages_, he thought. _It makes sense, after all, we weren't about to walk into another trap, so she leaves us with no choice_!

He quickly switched the line back to the officer. "All right, here are your orders. We are to move in full force. The hostages don't matter compared to our enemy. Captain Pip and I will lead a forty man unit into the apartment. The police will cordon the area, although I doubt she has much interest in running away."

Pickman got up and ran to the equipment room. He grabbed his vest and gun before moving to the front.

Pip was already there, finishing briefing the men and handling their deployment. Pickman simply nodded at him as they got into separate APCs. The Hellsing Organization departed towards their enemy, confident that there were no more surprises to be had.

* * *

Seras watched with amusement as the family in the apartment huddled in a corner of the room. They, and the other residents that were being held hostage, had but one more use to her in addition to being the bait for her trap. She approached the huddling family, fangs bared. _Those Hellsing pretenders will come_. She thought. _And I will crush them again. I will use the gifts that Alucard gave me to their fullest potential!

* * *

_

The APCs stopped outside the apartment complex. Men quickly filing out towards entry points. Pip and Pickman led the main group of twenty men down the front hall, ready to confront Seras.

The first floor was completely empty. There was no sign of any conflict at all. It unnerved Pickman, and he knew that was likely why Seras had left things like that. _She will not beat us before we even engage her in combat! _Pickman thought, leading the group down the hall.

Pickman paused in the middle of the first floor hallway, remembering to refresh his group on the current situation. "All right men, our target is armed with two 454. Casulls. Her artillery weapon is out of ammunition, so we can probably overwhelm her if worse comes to worse."

All of a sudden, the roof above them began shaking. Cracks began to appear in the ceiling as the Hellsing mercenaries ran for cover. Large pieces of the second floor hallway down around the men.

When the smoke cleared the unit was surrounded by ghouls. They had used the second floor as a chance to get the drop on the soldiers, who would ordinarily be able to wipe out the monsters in straight-forward combat.

A desperate fight ensued, Hellsing mercenaries firing into the ghouls that had suddenly appeared in the midst of them. Pickman and Pip stood back-to-back, Pip firing his M4 with outstanding accuracy while Pickman devastated multiple ghouls in a single shot using the powerful Underdog Assault Handgun.

The fog of battle lifted with Hellsing standing victorious. Ten of the mercenaries had been killed during the fight though. The remaining ten soldiers in Pip and Pickman's group followed their leader and employer to the next level.

Pickman skipped the second floor, leaving it to the other units inside the building. He moved directly to the third floor, where the call to Hellsing had been made initially. Again the hallway was empty of both threats and any evidence of Seras' presence.

The unit split apart to cover the rooms in the third floor hallway. Pickman and Pip were exploring one of the now-abandoned apartment rooms, when a shout and gunfire redirected their attention to the hallway.

A figure stood in the hall, firing a pair of Casulls at the assembled Hellsing soldiers, decimating the outmatched unit. Pickman ran into the hallway, watching as Seras tore apart his men.

"Seras! Stop!" He shouted over the exchange of gunfire. Abruptly, Seras stopped firing, the remaining men that stood against her falling back in relief at having been saved from a losing battle.

* * *

Seras couldn't believe the voice that had interrupted her. _Captain Pickman?_ She thought, with disbelief at the thought of seeing her former superior here. _But he's dead. Dead and betrayed, just like Fargason_. She nearly broke down and cried at the sight of a comrade. Her human side had regained control.

Seras dropped her guns, knowing that she couldn't fight someone she was trying to avenge. The voice within her grew silent, unnaturally so.

She was just about to open her mouth to say something, anything, when it happened. An aura appeared around her. A dark blue, such as the sky just after twilight. As dark as it could be without being the trademark black of Alucard's aura. From that aura came a figure, separated from Seras only by the foggy aura surrounding her.

* * *

Pickman could only gasp in horror as the situation turned from in-control, to out of. He recognized what was happening to Seras, having read the case studies of Alucard when the monster had been imprisoned by the Hellsing family.

_A familiar!_ He thought. _I...I don't believe it. How could a new vampire have developed one so quickly?_

He watched in fear as the figure grew around Seras, draping her in dark energy.

* * *

A/N: Another cliff-hanger. But hey, when you update once-a-day those become obsolete pretty quickly.

So, yeah, review. I've said it before, and I'll probably be saying it again, but please. Reviews are awesome. I need some form of contact with my audience in order to give you guys what you want, or to solve an obvious mistake that I would never notice by myself.


	13. Chapter 11: Understanding

Author's note: Thank you everyone for the skyrocketing hit counter and the reviews so far.

Lennox RH, thanks for the review. It's great to see a perspective on the story, and thanks for putting it on your favorites. Also, in regards to glasses: So far, I figure that since Sir Islands is the only real mastermind at work(for the moment), the glasses requirement is fulfilled. Mind you, I never really thought about the eyewearin charge effect.

* * *

Pickman gasped as the aura covered Seras Victoria. He could barely make out her figure beyond the growing fog. The one feature he did take specific notice of was her eyes, still perfectly visible beyond the vampiric power gone out of control. 

The remaining mercenaries opened fire on the still figure of Seras. The shots passed through her body as if it was an illusion. The shadows around her grew more intense as they manifested themselves into physical existence.

Pickman shook himself out of shock and raised his gun to fire. He aimed at the growing monster surrounding his former subordinate. Yet even the Underdog's silver rounds could only leave quickly re-filled holes in the shadowy creature.

He began to feel waves of energy coming from the shadows. Intense feelings of regret and bitterness washed over the men. _It must be Victoria_. Thought Pickman. _This familiar must have been created from her weakness. She hated being so powerless, such a weak vampire. It must have been growing inside of her since day one. Only an incident like the tower was enough to lend it control. She must have been fighting against it for so long, dominating it through will. Now it's managed to take a physical form and we have to stop it!_

The shadows finally consumed Seras' body. The last thing Pickman saw were her pleading eyes vanishing into the monster. _They look so human_, he thought. _Damn it! We can't win against something like this_!

"Fall back!" He shouted. The men didn't need to be told twice, dashing towards the stairs. Pip and Pickman stayed behind to cover the retreat. Unfortunately, Seras had chosen that moment to finish preparing. The shadows began to take a coherent shape around where her body had disappeared.

Pickman continued firing, the mass hardly reacting to the heavy rounds. Pickman could make out a pair of ears and clawed arms beginning to form on the new monster. Pickman stared as the form was completed. _It's a cat?_ thought Pickman, almost humored by Seras' subconscious choice of familiar.

Pip had remained by Pickman's side during the battle, only now pausing to reload his M4. He was barely able to jump away from Seras' explosion of movement when it happened.

A blur of dark movement cut between Pip and Pickman. Seras had dashed forward in a hellish display of speed and power, charging after the retreating mercenaries. Pickman turned around and fired in vain at the monster as she neared the soldiers, the bullets no longer having any visible effects on the creature Seras Victoria had become.

Pickman was forced to watch as the vampiress devastated the men with her claws, tearing apart the hardened soldiers as if they were made of cloth. Pip gestured to a nearby fire-escape, shouting "We have to get out of here!" Pickman nodded and followed the mercenary captain to the exit while Seras finished off the poor soldiers.

Pip leapt out the window, beginning to climb the ladder to safety. Pickman remained at the window, laying down covering fire. Seras, having finished with the mercenaries, charged at the commander.

Pickman's gun clicked empty as Seras charged. Pickman prepared himself to jump away from the vampiress. Although he knew that a dodging maneuver would likely be futile, he wasn't about to give up and accept death.

Seras abruptly halted her charge. The monster seemed to be restrained, a force pushing back against it. The shadows inched forwards, held back by Seras' humanity, or so Pickman figured.

The figure of a standing Seras was becoming visible as she stood her ground while the shadows pushed onwards. She let out a cry of "No!". The shadows pulled back around her, consuming her. Seras Victoria, finally gaining a measure of control, used the shadows to transport herself, teleporting herself away from the hallway and into the night.

Pickman let out a sigh of relief and began to work his way down the fire-escape to catch up with Pip.

* * *

A lone man sat in the darkness, watching a live transmission. The man was short and fat, yet still somehow came off as intimidating. To his subordinates and enemies, he was only known as the 'Major', as indicated by his rank. 

The image on the screen was being broadcast by the freak chips implanted inside of a subordinate watching the one-sided battle between Hellsing and Seras through a window. The Major watched the transformation of Seras, hunger evident in his eyes.

He stood up and shouted, catching the man holding a remote control behind him by surprise. "Yes! This is brilliant! Wonderful! I've never seen anything like this! Forget that worthless Incognito! He pales in comparison to this vision of beauty and power!"

The Major had been subdued since the loss of his potentially most dangerous vampire. Incognito was weaker than his Werewolves, but his ability to summon demons gave him the power to destroy entire cities. A power that the major had hoped to employ on London. _After all_, he had thought at the time. _As fun as it would be to unleash the fruits of the Millennium project on London, it would be far more painful to the British to see their capital plunged into Hell itself_.

Incognito had also been used as the base for the freak chip and earlier vampire experiments. Without that monster, all the troops that the Major commanded would be useless elderly humans. He had been blessed to have captured and bound the monster back in 1940.

_But this_, the Major thought, watching Seras now tearing apart the mercenary soldiers. _This is a thing of beauty._ _Such power, such destruction!_ It reminded the Major of the true path that he knew he must take. _The Letz Battalion shall burn London!_ He thought with glee. _We will surpass Hell itself! We will create an endless war that shall burn humanity from this foul world!_

He paused the image on screen as Seras began to fade away. He pointed at the image, directing the man beside him to look at it. He voiced his thoughts. "I want her on our side. When the war begins, she will fight on our side." He said simply. The hysteria at discovering such a vampire was still raging within him.

The doctor behind him simply bowed and walked away, but not before hitting the self-destruct button for the vampire observer. The creature screamed as the chips covered the body in flames upon receiving the signal. The freak-vampire faded away into ash, leaving no evidence of it, or it's masters' existence for Hellsing investigators to find.

* * *

Pickman looked up at the apartment complex. _Did I just hear a scream?_ He thought. _Nah. Besides, we have much more important concerns at the moment_. 

The remaining units had evacuated the apartment building. Seras was once again victorious over the Hellsing Organization. _But at least we know now, that it isn't really her that's calling the shots. _He thought._ That's the key. There has to be some sort of weakness we can exploit in order to save her!_ Even with her latest display, Pickman was not about to abandon another comrade to die needlessly.

* * *

A/N: Another completed chapter. The 'Evil Seras Saga' is drawing to a close with but two more stages: Inspiration and Action. 

Please, review. Consider it a personal favor. I enjoy knowing that people read this.


	14. Chapter 12: Inspiration

Author's Note: The 'Evil Seras Saga' is coming to a close. I figure I'll add in some Hellsing vs. Iscariot action after it, before tossing the Major and his Millennium nazis into the mix.

* * *

Pickman didn't ordinarily dream. When he did, it usually involved outlandish situations where he was reduced to observing or only being able to partially interact with his environment. This time it was different. He could clearly move about in his surroundings, and his vision was perfect, although the room was covered in shadows. 

He took notice of where he was. _The shrine located at the Hellsing Manor_... He thought. _What's going on here?_ He began to see subtle changes appearing in the room. The floor was becoming wet, sprinkled with water. A circle was beginning to appear in the center of the room, surrounded by pillars.

He recognized the circle and the symbols surrounding it immediately. _Alucard!_ He thought, recognizing the pattern on the immortal vampire's gloves. _What sort of magic is going on here?_

A new detail was appearing in the circle, a human form was developing at the center. Pickman couldn't tell exactly who it was, but he instinctively knew to pay attention to every detail of the situation.

A silver cross began to form, stabbing through the figure's heart. The figure was still moving though, thrashing about despite the cross wound.

Another figure appeared, approaching the circle. Pickman could barely make out the green styling of a Hellsing uniform, the face blocked by the mysterious shadows that had been characteristic of the dream thus far.

Pickman watched as the new figure moved into the circle, stopping beside the thrashing figure. The standing figure drew a knife and cut himself, allowing blood to fall to the thrashing figure below. The circle began to glow red and shrink, closing in around the figure on the floor.

The light began to blind Pickman, removing the setting from view.

* * *

Pickman awoke with a yell. Breathing heavily in his bed. He took a quick look around the room. _Closet, uniform_, he thought, mentally checking that he was indeed in his room and not some crazy dream. _desk, chair, red coat_... _Wait, red coat?_ He quickly focused on the coat, giving his eyes the second they needed to confirm that he was not alone. 

"Oh, hello Alucard." He said, still rather sleepy. "What on Earth are you doing in my room at this ungodly hour."

The vampire simply chuckled. "Just checking up on you. I figured you could use some... inspiration, so I decided to pay you a visit."

Pickman looked up at the standing monster, puzzled at the choice of words. "Wait, that dream. Was that...?"

Alucard again chuckled. "The human mind is so easy to enter. As for the dream, all it takes is a little push to make a person see what I want them to see."

Pickman quickly got over his outrage at having his sleep violated by the legendary Nosferatu. "Speaking of visiting, where have you been anyways?" He asked, hoping that the vampire would be rejoining Hellsing.

The vampire responded, likely reacting to Pickman's thoughts rather than words. "I'm only dropping in for a quick chat. Don't get your hopes up. But to answer your question, I've been keeping my master company."

Pickman shook his head. "Damn, we could really use you. Your fledgling has been out of control as of late, and I have no idea how to stop her."

The vampire smiled. "Ah yes, I remember when I was like her. Dominated by hunger and the sheer power at my disposal. She lacks the control that I have, the control that I was given."

Pickman was puzzled. "What do you mean? By all rights, you yourself claim to be a 'monster'."

Alucard still wore his characteristic smile. "True, but only because I decided to abandon my humanity. The decision was mine to make. The police girl is not being given a choice in this matter. It was an interesting experiment, siring a fledgling with the power I have. Unfortunately, it seems that she has too much power to control herself."

"Then what do I do?" Pickman asked. "How do I give her the chance to make that choice?"

Alucard continued, unfazed by the question. "In a way... I'm grateful to the Hellsing family. They gave me the chance to become the most powerful of vampires. They forced the choice onto me and, for all intents and purposes, gave me full control over the use of my powers. For that, it seems servitude is a fair price."

Pickman suddenly understood what Alucard was implying. "So, that dream was your message? Wait, although you are already enslaved to Hellsing, why would you want Seras to suffer the same fate?"

Alucard's smile became wider at this point. "Because it's fun to see how you react. Because I want to observe this experiment to the end. I want to see how the police girl reacts. But mostly, because it is her choice. I have enough of an attachment to her to have an interest in her welfare."

Pickman knew that his course of action was clear. "I'd have to agree with you on this point. It does seem to be the best solution to this problem."

Alucard nodded and began to fade into the wall. "Good to hear it. Now if you'll pardon me, I have someone else to give a choice to. I consider it... repayment for the power I so enjoy." He laughed as he faded into the wall. _No doubt_, thought Pickman. _Off to harass somebody else at this awful time of night_.

He rolled over, determined to catch some sort of uninterrupted sleep, glad that there was a potential solution to Hellsing's current problem for him to research in the morning. _Still, _he thought_. Binding a vampire like Seras will be hell. Something like this will take careful planning_.

* * *

Alucard materialized in a small, dark prison cell in the deepest reaches of the Tower of London. He looked over at the figure, still awake, sitting on the bed. 

"What were you off doing?" Demanded Integra Wingates Hellsing.

"Oh, I was here and there, running a few errands. I needed to help... manage the police girl's current situation." He responded smoothly.

"Humph. Damn the current situation." Integra could care less about what Seras was up to. Her concerns were much more along the lines of self-preservation.

She knew that there was a conspiracy at work to attack her. The excuses for locking her up that the Round Table had used were paper-thin. _Too public indeed!_ She thought bitterly. _We control the news, the public needn't even know of my arrest, let alone my escape!_ Alucard had consistently reminded her that even if Hellsing survived without her, it wouldn't be the same organization without a Hellsing to lead it.

_This is all Sir Islands' doing_, she thought. _He wants control over my organization, so he locks me up at the first opportunity. From there he enlists Penwood to rebuild the organization under military control. Penwood is only a pawn to Islands, doing what he's told while Islands holds the power. By the time I'm released, my Hellsing Organization will be gone, replaced by a unit directly under the Round Table__ and the military_. _And so it ends. My family's honor is scattered to the winds! Our contributions to this country forgotten! I'll live in retirement, hated as a terrorist while Islands legitimately wields the sword that my family has forged_!

Alucard looked over at her. Sensing the bitterness that the unjust imprisonment was wreaking upon his master. "Integra, as I have said before, the choice is yours. I can give you the power to carry on your family's mission with or without the consent of those foolish humans of the Round Table. All you need to do is say the word and my power would become yours."

Integra's willpower to remain human stayed strong however. "And as I have told you numerous times before. I refuse your 'gift', no matter how you intend the offer. I refuse to give in to the current situation. I will bide my time. Once I leave this place, I can rebuild from scratch. I will reverse whatever damages Sir Islands causes to me, my organization, and my honor."

The vampire maintained his smile, even in the face of refusal. "And indeed, that determination is what makes you worthy to be my master. However, sometimes the line between determination and stubbornness becomes blurred, does it not?"

Integra nearly broke down at the statement, but managed to shake her head in refusal. She lay back on the bed, deciding to sleep rather than enter a losing argument with her vampire servant.

Alucard watched over her. Knowing that one day she would break. _It would be the perfect revenge on you, master_. He thought. _Having you sink to my level, lower yourself before me, take my blood in exchange for the power to survive. It's perfect_. _The perfect gift in exchange for the power your family gave me, for me to return it to you_.

Alucard faded into the shadows, taking amusement in the events surrounding him. _After all_, he thought. _Sometimes giving inspiration is as much fun as taking action_.

* * *

A/N: Well, it seems that Alucard is operating under his own inhuman agenda, as usual. Everyone, thank you for the reviews thus far. 

Lennox, thank you for the endorsement and the analysis. I always appreciate seeing new angles to this. Also, I too have always had an appreciation for the human factor in these kinds of situations.

Zaisha, as you can see, you read my mind on how I was planning to deal with the Seras situation. I figure that, as Alucard's fledgling, she should follow his path. Also, the restriction system is an ideal solution to her current problem.


	15. Chapter 13: Binding

Author's Note: This is it. The conclusive battle between Seras and Hellsing. Thank you everyone for your reviews so far. And Lennox, I agree wholeheartedly on including the crossfire gang. They always lightened up the manga, interesting encounters indeed, although I'll try not to impulsively kill one of them. Thats what I keep OCs and generics for.

* * *

Pickman put down the last record book of the vampire binding process. He was extremely grateful to Abraham Van Hellsing for his meticulous documentation of Alucard's binding. _All that remains is to use this knowledge to save Seras_. Thought Pickman. _I'm glad that a solution like this could be worked out_. 

Pickman knew that Seras would strike at Hellsing HQ soon. They had been refusing to send units out to perform even strike attacks against existing, known freaks. Seras had no targets to go after but the Hellsing Manor itself. _And I'd bet she thinks that she has the power to take it as well_. He thought, confident that the Hellsing Organization's preparations would be enough to end the battles with Seras once-and-for all.

* * *

Seras Victoria had spent the past few days adjusting to the incredible shift in her power. Her vampire side was in full control over her body and was confident that the rest she had received would be enough to carry her through an attack on Hellsing itself. 

_After all_, she thought. _If a pack of ghouls could wipe out the organization in a direct assault, I certainly can_. Confidence and blood-lust were blinding her to the possibility that the false Hellsing Organization could possibly be prepared for an attack.

She wrapped the shadows around herself, preparing to move herself to the front gates of the Hellsing Manor. _It's time I ended this_, she thought.

* * *

Pickman stood in front of the assembled soldiers. He knew that his plan was a risk, but he also knew that Seras would choose a direct assault, allowing for the plan to have a chance of working. 

"As you know," he began. "We have been getting ourselves embarrassed in battle as of late. A former officer of this organization has been preying on our men. Therefor we must take special steps to handle the situation."

Pip scoffed at the idea of fighting Seras again. "Man, she wiped us out last time. Not even that monster of a handgun you've been using could stop her. So what makes this different?"

Pickman smiled. "This time we'll be fighting her with intelligence, not strength." He pointed to a map of the Hellsing grounds. "We need to lure her to this location once she attacks." He pointed at the shrine. "I've already handled the preparations from there."

He pointed back to the front entrance. "The majority of our security forces will be arrayed here. Their orders are to retreat upon sighting the enemy. As you withdraw to the shrine area, cover units will escape through these passages." He pointed at a series of passages in the basement.

"Chances are she won't follow a few stragglers breaking off from the fight." He continued. "The main force will retreat past the shrine room. I'll wait there, lure her inside, and finish this. With any luck, we can end this tonight. For I doubt her patience will give us any more time."

He looked over the faces of the Wild Geese. _Mercenaries_, he thought. _Who have been forced into the roles of knights_. "Humbly accept your orders, and may God and Her Majesty be with you. Amen."

The men filed out, moving to defensive positions across the manor. _She will not find us an easy target_. Promised Pickman.

* * *

Seras smashed open the front gates of the Hellsing Manor, using none of the finesse she had started with last time. Immediately alarms went off across the property. Seras walked towards the front door, remembering the feeling of power she had experienced as she killed the guards who stood there on the night of her first attack on the building. 

She kicked the door open, only to be caught in the fire of a unit of Hellsing mercenaries guarding the front hall. She reacted to the sudden assault by simply standing still and taking it. Her body suffered grotesque damage, falling to the floor in a heap as the mercenaries ran out of ammo.

Seras delighted in the pain that the false soldiers of Hellsing had inflicted upon her. She drew the shadows to her, calling upon her power to reform herself.

The soldiers immediately retreated, some moving upstairs while the majority escaped into the basement. Seras chose to follow the main unit, sensing more prey below.

The soldiers in the basement reacted in a similar fashion, retreating and dividing, until the main group had dwindled to a few soldiers running desperately down the hallway away from Seras. She was growing frustrated at the antics of these cowards. _Annoying_, she thought. _I was hoping they'd try and fight. Maybe give me some enjoyment before I killed them. As is, I'll have to hunt them all down one by one_.

Seras continued after the soldiers, her patience wearing thin. The soldiers ahead of her divided again, splitting between a pair of side passages. Seras stood in the hall, debating which group to go after, when she realized the room she was in front of.

_The Hellsing shrine_? She thought. _One of the advantages of being an ordained order I suppose_. She paused, sensing something afoot in the room. Her blood-lust overpowered by curiosity, she entered.

* * *

Pickman watched as the door opened from the outside. _All going according to plan_. He _thought. I just hope there weren't many casualties in the process_. He sat on the alter, holding a silver cross and a remote trigger behind his back, looking at the circle he had painstakingly constructed. 

Seras strode casually into the room. Pickman nodded a greeting at her. "Ah, I see you've made it this far. Not that I really figured human troops could stop you." He said calmly, trying to lure her into the center of the seal.

Seras smirked. "Especially not your human troops. Cowards just ran away at the sight of me."

Pickman nodded. "Well, they were under orders to do so."

Seras continued moving forward slowly, wanting to savor the impending kill. "Well then, what was your plan? I'm only asking out of curiosity, because it's evident that whatever it was, it failed the moment I made it here."

She reached the center of the circle. At this point Pickman held up his hand to indicate she should stop. Out of amusement for the conversation she did. Pickman replied to her earlier question. "Oh no, on the contrary. Getting you here was the mission. I am sorry for doing this to a comrade, but I would be much sorrier if Seras wasn't an unwilling participant in this."

Seras was pushed over the edge by that remark. She prepared to leap at him. Before she could however, Pickman pressed the trigger on his remote. The sprinkler system implanted on the ceiling of the shrine activated, spraying the room with holy water rather than it's generic counterpart.

Seras looked up in confusion, only to be hit full in the face by the blessed liquid. She recoiled in shock at the pain inflicted by the offending fluid. It burned her, causing no real damage, yet still being quite a nuisance.

Pickman took the opportunity to leap from the alter and dash at Seras. Before she got over the sudden attack, Pickman had stabbed her in the heart with the silver cross he had been holding earlier. Seras fell to the ground in pain and shock.

Pickman looked over her. "You see, we can't beat you with guns and determination alone, so we simply decided to resort to... divine intervention. Vampires have a ton of weaknesses, most we can't exploit unless we set up the battlefield. And you gave us the perfect opportunity to do so."

Pickman pulled a knife out of his vest. Seras looked up at him, thrashing around the cross. "What? Do you think that I'm beaten? Just give me a minute and I'll be out of this. And then..."

Pickman grimaced at the inhumanity of her look. _It's time_, he thought, putting the knife to his wrist. A quick slash was all it took to send blood flying onto Seras. She looked up, puzzled at the Hellsing commander's suicidal actions. Moments later, she noticed the circle she was in beginning to glow.

Pickman looked around, seeing the circle react to the blood he had spilt. It began to glow and shrink around them. The seal focused on Seras, becoming absorbed into her body. Pickman could only stare in amazement at the feat he was accomplishing. He began to feel Seras' hatred attack his mind, trying to dominate his will. But the fact that only a part of Seras was making the effort allowed Pickman to overcome it with only mild difficulty.

Finally the light faded and Pickman felt it was safe to remove the cross from his new servant. Seras sat up, humanity returned to her red eyes as she looked around at the room, only vaguely remembering the actions she had take under the influence of her powers.

She looked down at her gloves, seeing a familiar pattern etched into them. She gave a light frown. "Aw, just when I thought I wouldn't have to use the term 'master' anymore..."

Pickman could only laugh in response.

* * *

A/N: Well, that ends the Seras situation. Now I plan to include a visit from everyone's favorite bishop and get a few other 'issues' sorted out before the Major makes his grand entry. 

Keep the reviews coming. I really do appreciate them.


	16. Chapter 14: Offer

Author's Note: Glad to be finished with the 'Evil Seras Saga' I was starting to freak myself out with the Alucard-esque Dark Seras.

Again, thank you for the reviews. Lennox, thank you yet again. Mind you, I sort of didn't get the right message across with the generics and OCs line. I more so meant that I'd be avoiding killing main characters, instead killing off in-depth original characters like Brand (he was actually an experiment to see if I could pull it off.), and of course, the faceless, nameless, generics. Although I'm not planning anymore blood baths for a while (few days at most).

Also, Zaisha, I agree wholeheartedly. The Crossfire gang deserves some serious attention. Fanatics are always hilarious, especially when they're self-admitted fanatics.

* * *

Pickman sat at his desk, elated at the successful recovery of Seras. There was still quite a bit of animosity between her and the Wild Geese, seeing as how she had killed many of them during her out of control times, but Pickman would rather see Seras on their side with some animosity than her murdering them on the field of battle. 

Seras herself had taken to the binding rather well. Being liberated from the dark influences of her higher-level powers was a far greater freedom than the one she had lost. _Although it will be a while before she can release those powers again under the Control Art Restriction System_. Thought Pickman. _Though she'll be in much more control over them when she does_.

At this point, with the end of Hellsing's string of defeats, Pickman was taking enjoyment even out of the mundane paperwork he was forced to do. The day seemed perfect and beautiful. So naturally, something had to go wrong.

The phone on Pickman's desk rang. He leisurely reached over and picked it up, greeting the officer on the line. "Hello. What is going on?"

The officer on the line was apologetic. "Ah, sir. We've received word from the London airport that a Bishop Maxwell will be arriving in country shortly."

Pickman's mood was shattered. Enrico Maxwell, head of the Vatican's Section XIII, was a man to be feared. What's more, he was a man that Pickman had specifically tried to piss off. _Maybe sending Paladin Brand's body back with a warning was a tad reckless_. He thought. _I don't want anymore Vatican assassins running rampant throughout Great Britain though_.

The officer continued. "We just received a call from Vatican indicating that Bishop Maxwell would like a direct meeting with you. Will you accept?"

Pickman nodded, confirming on the phone. "Yes, that would be good. But I want the meeting to be here, under the heaviest of guards. I don't want Maxwell to think he has a chance at trying anything here. We need to show him whose in charge, even if it is no longer Sir Hellsing."

The officer acknowledged the order, and hung up to get to work on the arrangements. Pickman sat back in his chair, what was once such a beautiful day ruined.

* * *

Enrico Maxwell stepped out of the car, admiring the Hellsing Manor's fine architecture, especially noting the restored areas where various conflicts had damaged the structure. He walked past his first escort, Father Renaldo, who closed the door behind him. 

He glanced back to his other escort who had just stepped out of the vehicle, a tall paladin wearing the traditional uniform of the Iscariots. "This will be interesting." He commented. "Don't you think, Father Anderson?"

* * *

Pickman waited in the conference room, sitting at the head of the table with Pip Bernadotte and a Hellsing officer seated on his right and left. An aide had just reported that Bishop Maxwell and his two escorts were on their way to the conference room. 

_I'm glad that Sir Integra and Walter aren't here to see this_. He thought. _I doubt either could take an Iscariot as a guest in this manor. But we need a secure location, and given the time constraints this is the best place to handle the meeting_.

The chief of Section XIII entered, flanked by the relatively bland looking Father Renaldo on his left, and by the gigantic figure of Alexander Anderson on his right. _Guess he doesn't have any illusions about our current relationship_. Thought Pickman. _Anderson's presence would ordinarily be a huge security concern. But with Seras waiting outside we have a bit of a balance for him_. He still doubted it would come to a fight though.

He addressed the bishop. "Mr. Maxwell, would you please take a seat." Maxwell took the seat at the opposite end of the table, his guards taking the chairs to his right and left. Pickman, prepared to begin the meeting, asked Maxwell. "So, would you care to explain the reason for your presence here?"

Maxwell gave Pickman a friendly smile. "I'm here to discuss some... recent events. In particular, the death of one of the Vatican's most prized paladins."

Pickman frowned. "I hope you don't expect an apology. He was out of his jurisdiction and trying to kill us. I wouldn't have taken any other course of action."

Maxwell's smile remained strong. "Not at all my friend. You were perfectly justified in killing Brand. It was an unfortunate misunderstanding. You see, we had no idea of this organization's continued existence and simply sent Brand over to pick up the slack. A tragedy indeed, for this to have occurred, but the fault is with us."

Pickman was becoming confused. He had half-expected Maxwell to open the door and abruptly order Anderson to gut the officers of Hellsing like fish in exchange for their actions against Iscariot. _Instead he's being kind and polite... Something's not right here_.

Maxwell continued. "In fact, we are most glad to see the persistence of _your _organization." Pickman didn't like the way he said 'your', as if the Hellsing Organization was Pickman's, rather than Integra's.

Pickman decided to respond to Maxwell's politeness with his own. "Thank you, I'm glad we could avoid any conflict over this."

Maxwell grinned. "In fact." He began. "I would like to make you an offer. An alliance if you will."

Pickman began to see what Maxwell was trying to accomplish, and was shocked at the audacity.

"Believe it or not, you carry a lot of power now. You are the head of an organization that doesn't technically exist. This gives you quite a bit of influence over the direction your organization takes. What I propose is that you join Section XIII. We would welcome you as the English chapter of our noble organization."

Pickman questioned this. "What about our religious differences?"

Maxwell remained confident. "The Catholic church has always been known to accept converts with open arms. I would be no different in welcoming you if you were to see the light. In fact, you would have quite the number of opportunities as the man who brought the English back into the true faith. I would see you as a bishop on par with myself in importance."

Maxwell continued, ignoring the look of disbelief on Pickman's face. "Consider it a partnership. Sir Hellsing is gone, imprisoned and betrayed by the country she fought her entire life to protect. Would you share her fate?"

Pickman responded. "So you would use us to forcibly return Great Britain to Catholicism?"

Maxwell shook his head. "Not at all. The choice would remain, as always, in the hands of the people. We simply want you to help us make this choice a little more... clear to them. It could not be denied the influence we would have in a monopoly over vampire extermination. Think of the benefits! A unification of our skills, resources, and personnel. An end to the religious conflicts that have plagued our organizations and our countries for centuries. You and I could be the men to end the eternal conflict between Protestants and Catholics! We could bring peace to a war that has lasted centuries!" Maxwell's smile was beginning to disturb Pickman at this point.

"Hundreds of years ago, England split from Catholicism due to a mixture of corruption in our church, and the greed of your monarchy. Since that time the Vatican has changed, become more disciplined. Our organization helps to ensure that. The only thing holding back true unity is your monarch's death grip on the power as head of your church. Would you condemn the people, both Protestant and Catholic, to a continuation of a conflict that could be ended today with a single decision? For we both know that the war continues to this day. Difference always breeds intolerance, and from intolerance, war."

Pickman's loyalty and determination faltered at the logic of Maxwell's arguments. The thought of his superior's current position was enough to give Pickman second thoughts about his loyalty to a country that was willing to reward centuries of unquestioned service with imprisonment. His mind spun with the unexpected offer that Maxwell had given him.

* * *

Maxwell was confident in his pitch. _I could never do this to a Hellsing_. He thought. _They have always had a single-minded stubborn loyalty to their corrupted monarchs. Such a mistake, you imperialists, to put a newcomer like this Pickman in a position of power. Now I'm on the verge of taking away the power you've clutched at for centuries! With this, Catholicism will become the undisputed true religion of Europe! We will save millions of souls! What a glorious day to be in the service of God_!

* * *

A/N: An unexpected offer from Maxwell. Will Pickman accept this deal with... well, not the devil, but still an enemy of Hellsing. This chapter was a tad dialogue heavy, but hey, it's setup. 

As usual, read and review! Ideas, suggestions, perspectives, criticisms. I appreciate everything you would give me.


	17. Chapter 15: Declaration

Author's Note: The time has finally come to settle Pickman's choice of loyalties.

Oh yes, Walter will be making his triumphant return shortly(I just wanted to leave him hospitalized for a while. I mean, he took quite the crash, and he is old. Awesome, but still old).

Also, about the Underdog, Pickman **wishes **it could be mass-produced in such a short time-frame, but at the moment the development staff faces a couple problems:

1) The field testing has yet to be concluded. Despite it's stellar performance thus far, I doubt they'd want some fault showing up due to reckless production.

2) They really haven't even mastered the design, so far they only fixed up the existing one through the modification of a spare Jackal. Since Walter designed the weapon's original form they would likely require his input on how to adapt the modifications into a mass-produced weapon(another reason to bring him back).

I also agree with the idea of it being a specialty weapon for fire-teams. After all, it does lack many qualities when compared to automatics, so having a few guys with rifles to back up an Underdog user would certainly be advantagous.

But enough of my ranting, on to the chapter!

* * *

Pickman stared across the table at Maxwell in shock. _Threats I expected_, he thought. _A bit of false politeness leading into threats I expected, but this_?

He could understand the motivations of Maxwell in offering equality to the subordinate of his greatest rival. _He wants to destroy Sir Integra, and in the worst way possible. He wants to take her organization and her country for himself_. Pickman's resolve was strengthened.

_Our Hellsing Organization is not just a tool of royal power to keep Catholicism from monopolizing our vampire extermination. Hellsing was created through the efforts of the Hellsing family, to protect the people of this country from the undead. It belongs to the country it serves and to the people who do it's work. The men who have died in service of this organization did so out of loyalty to their duty. I refuse to betray the feelings of those soldiers, I refuse to simply give up our independence because it would bring a subservient peace_.

Pickman's expression strengthened and he looked into Maxwell's eyes as he gave his response. "You were right about one thing Mr. Maxwell, everyone does have a choice, and I have made mine. I refuse to betray the intentions of this organization for personal gain. I refuse to give you this organization to be used as a political tool. The Hellsing Organization exists to protect the people and institutions of Great Britain from the supernatural. We are not a political group. We only follow the queen as this country's Head of State and a representative of it's will."

Maxwell's expression of confidence had quickly turned to shock, followed by anger, yet Pickman continued his detailed refusal. "I never quite understood why Sir Hellsing hates you so, until today. Our organization has but one mission, one which I need not explain again. Yet your group is obsessed with using political games to continuously upset this mission. It's getting rather tiresome. If you want peace, that is completely fine with me. I have no grudge against you. If you want to share resources, again, I would be fine with it. But do not involve our Hellsing Organization in your trivial political games!"

* * *

Maxwell was floored by the rejection he had received. _Stubborn loyalty I expected_, he thought. _Outright hatred I also expected. But this? To receive such an insult from a mere... subordinate! I refuse to take this_!

He stood up from his chair, glaring at the Hellsing commander. "You insolent pup! I offer you power, salvation, the resources to save this country, yet you would dare to antagonize us!" He decided that threats would have to be the way to go on this one. "Do I need to remind you that I am in control of this situation! You forget who I have brought here with me today!"

Maxwell gestured to his right, where Anderson was seated, a furious expression on his face and only the bishop's orders preventing him from gutting the Hellsing end of the table.

"It does not matter where you chose this meeting to be." Continued Maxwell. "The center of your most guarded fortress or an undefended field. To a paladin of Iscariot, your Hellsing soldiers are naught but wheat waiting to be threshed! I hold the cards here. You will listen to reason and accept our most generous offer. Or I could give Father Anderson a chance to show his appreciation for your most ungrateful lack of hospitality."

* * *

Pickman was ready for the threat of Anderson. He stood up from his chair, maintaining eye contact with the wildly grinning chief of Section XIII. _The only way to respond to his show of bravado is with one of my own. __But I do hate these stupid threat-counter-threat games_...

Pickman smiled at the bishop. "Did you really think that we would fail to take your trump card into consideration when accepting this meeting. In addition to the armed guards you no doubt expected to be waiting outside, we also have a more dangerous opponent for your paladin, should you foolishly choose to engage us in battle here."

Pickman looked over at the wall behind him. "Victoria, you can come in now." Seras' presence was Pickman's trump card in this whole Iscariot business. He knew how much the Iscariots enjoyed theatrics before a battle. Therefore having Seras wait in the next room so she could phase in through the wall, a feat which would no doubt cause Maxwell to remember the deadliness of Alucard, would go a long way towards convincing the Iscariots that it would be a bad idea to start a fight.

However, like most plans, execution was proving to be a bit more difficult than the plan anticipated. Pickman waited, looking confidently towards the wall while Maxwell's expression shifted from rage to confusion. Moments later Pickman heard a thud from the other room, followed by a muffled voice.

"Ah, sorry about the delay... I could swear that I had it down this morning! Come on..." Another thump came from the wall. "I'm really, really sorry about this! I just..."

Pickman placed his hand over his face. Watching as what should have been a decisive moment of intimidation turned into a laughing stock. Pickman brought his gaze back to the wall. "Just... just use the door..." He commanded, awkward embarrassment replacing the awesome confidence he had felt scant moments ago.

Seconds later the door to the meeting room opened, revealing a horribly embarrassed Seras Victoria. She quickly walked past the Iscariots, approaching from the left rather than risk walking by Anderson. She stood behind the commander, red-faced.

Maxwell's expression was priceless. He was on the verge of breaking down and laughing. Instead, he took a moment to convert his humor to a triumphant smirk. "Indeed, I see now why you are so confident in your dealings with us. Why, with a vampire so fearsome as that I doubt the whole of Iscariot could match you." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Maxwell continued, his tone changing from sarcastic to his ever-used threatening. "Without a Hellsing to command you and a proper vampire slave at your disposal, your organization is worthless. It is only out of self-preservation that I do not order Anderson to kill all of you. We don't need your cooperation to win this country. In fact, I have a feeling that it would be much more fun to simply slaughter you all. Before I leave, I'd like to share with you a little secret."

Maxwell leaned over the table, his expression arrogant. "I'm going to be deploying the top agents of Iscariot throughout this city. They will steal your prey from you, and slaughter your men on sight. You will be rendered helpless before the Vatican's superiority. I let you live now, knowing that you will die in battle against a representative of God. I wish you luck, for you will certainly need it. Not that luck has ever saved one forsaken by God!"

Maxwell and his escorts left their seats and moved for the door. Before he left, Anderson turned to face Seras, speaking his first words since the meeting began. "I want you to know, vampire, that I will crush you in the coming battle. You have no master to protect you, and no power of your own with which to fight. I will personally grind your unholy body into dust." He then turned and followed his chief out of the room.

Pickman waited until the Iscariots had left the manor before turning to Seras. "Well, that was embarrassing" He said, sheepishly.

Seras' face had yet to recover from awkward moment her inexperience had caused. "I'm really sorry sir! I just didn't expect it to be so difficult! I mean, earlier, all I had to do was go with these powers, just sort of hang on for the ride. But now I have to manually..." She was cut off by Pickman.

"It's all right." He said. "If anything, that stunt helped us more than an act of intimidation. Maxwell now thinks we're disorganized children. Thankfully, I don't give a damn what he thinks. He revealed his plan, and underestimated us. Those are some serious disadvantages he has inflicted upon himself."

Pip cut in as well. "Plus it was pretty funny. I needed the pick-me-up, what with all these cheesy lines being tossed back and forth."

Pickman moved from his chair, leaving the room. Before he did he turned around and faced his subordinates. "Maxwell just made a huge mistake. For a declaration of war against Hellsing is the signing of his own death warrant. This isn't a game, and I'll see him pay for his attacks on this organization."

* * *

A/N: Hellsing and Iscariot are now poised to square off against one another. Yet, is there any benefit in weakening both groups with an insane Millennium Major waiting on the sidelines?

Oh yeah, review. I know, I say it every chapter, but it really is the life-blood of fanfiction. I probably could have gotten this far without it, but the story would be worse, and I would be far less inclined to write it. Therefore I thank all my past and present reviewers for their time and opinions.


	18. Chapter 16: Skirmishes

Author's Note: Gah! I missed an update! Cursed temporary lack of computer access! No matter, for I have released a longer, action-packed chapter... Although I'm not exactly certain how well it was done...

As for the positive reaction to Seras' antics of the last chapter, thank you. I was trying to lighten things up after that whole debacle. After all, Seras is the punching bag of Hellsing. So if she isn't having serious problems, it may as well be light-hearted.

As for Millennium, I have a plan to introduce them. A long and complex plan(Well, not very). But involves a storyline twist to come. Needless to say, I want to hold off on introducing Millennium because I don't know everything there is to know about them. But they will come eventually, and at a (relatively)constant update rate of one chapter per day it shouldn't take me too long to reach them.

* * *

Jonathan Fowly, Freak-Chipped vampire, was scared. Outright terrified. He had been expecting to be hunted one day. Hell, one of the conditions Millennium gave him was to give his hunters, some Hellsing Organization or something, as much trouble as possible. In exchange for immortality it seemed to be a great deal at the time. 

Now he was coming to regret that deal. A few minutes ago his apartment door was smashed open and a group of green-uniformed men started shooting at him. Rather than face certain death at the hands of his armed opposition, he chose to jump out the window. The glass didn't hurt, neither did the rough landing in the alleyway two storeys below. Thanks to his vampiric powers he felt that he was immortal, well, immortal when he wasn't being shot at.

_Damn guns_! He thought at the time. _Without them I would've been able to slaughter those bastards_! Jonathan had his own gun of course, they had given him one with the chip, but vampire or not, he was an awful shot. He chose to simply run from gun-fights and attack unarmed victims.

Jonathan rose from the crouch he had gone into upon landing. Thinking that he had lost his pursuers, he gave himself a moment to relax.

This moment of rest turned out to be a huge mistake. For before he knew it, another group of Hellsing soldiers had appeared on one side of the alleyway, with guns. Jonathan was furious! _Cheap bastards! Coming at an unarmed man like this_! He had forgotten for a moment that he was not a man, but a monster.

He took off, bullets ricocheting off the pavement behind him. Just as he neared the end of the alley, another group of men blocked his path.

These men were... different. The wore no masks, and had black coats instead of green uniforms. The feature Jonathan noticed most about his new opposition though, were the large, silver crosses they wore. _Damn it_! He thought, cursing his luck. _I mean, I have no idea who these guys are, but crosses mean religion, and I'm sort of a blight on them right now_...

The issue of the newcomers' allegiance was settled when they pulled large handguns from their coats. Jonathan, terrified of the professional attitude of these men, leapt towards a nearby fire-escape, climbing it with all the speed he could muster.

Oddly enough, although he heard shooting, none of the shots came near him. He turned and looked down only to see the two groups shooting at each other, debris from the alley being used as cover for the opposing forces. Jonathan, for the first time that day, felt like Lady Luck was on his side.

This misconception was quickly ended, as the moment he turned from the fire-escape he stood face to face with two women. The first was a taller woman. She was dressed in a similar fashion to the men he had just escaped. The second was dressed in the same black outfit as a nun would, although he could tell by the rage in her eyes that she was the farthest thing from one.

The blond woman casually produced a handgun from her coat. _Again with the guns_! Thought Jonathan. _If these people would just come after me with something other than guns! I would be fine with it! I'd show them what a vampire could do to an opponent that chose close range fighting over... Wait, what the fuck_!

Jonathan had just been, rather rudely, interrupted by a sword slash separating his body into two parts. He had been too busy mentally complaining to notice the nun whip out a katana and quickly slice him in two.

_Hey_, he thought bitterly, his vision beginning to fade with the horrible damage he had taken. _That wasn't fair! OK, all weapons suck... An unarmed opponent on the other hand_...

He didn't have time to finish the thought before the other woman finished off the distracted freak with a clean shot to the head.

* * *

Heinkel put away her gun, looking over at her beserker partner she said. "I can't believe the chief would have us come all the way to London, just to kill wusses like these! I mean, these guys are heretics! Why should we kill vampires for them?" 

Yumie answered her, a fraction of her more timid side restored when she wasn't in combat. "Well, it was the chief's orders, and we are fighting Hellsing too."

Heinkel pondered the circumstances for a moment. "Right, well, shouldn't we be fighting them then? I mean, just look at this guy." She pointed at the pile of dust that was once Jonathan Fowly. "He barely knew what was going on! I don't want to waste my time with that!"

Yumie responded. "Well then, lets get off this roof and rejoin the others. They were supposed to take care of any Hellsing interference."

Heinkel was already running back to the building's staircase. Yumie followed, hoping for a chance to wipe out any Hellsing troops that the paladins below left behind.

* * *

The situation in Camden Town was absurd. Hellsing units had proceeded to rout a number of freak vampires infesting the area, only to discover Iscariot paladins already in the area. The Hellsing units had quickly broken off from their various freak pursuits in order to engage the paladin teams. 

Pickman waited in the lead APC, coordinating the field units. He was far from happy with the situation. _Damn_, he thought. _How the hell did Maxwell get so many armed men into the country! At this rate the military will show up under orders to stop this 'gang war'. I can just picture the Round Table locking me up over this_!

The only thing Pickman could be grateful for was the fact that the police had ordered a full civilian evacuation of the area as soon as Hellsing moved in. _Although_, thought Pickman in hindsight. _It was a good tip-off for Iscariot_.

He picked up the radio beside him. "Victoria, are you in position?" Seras was Hellsing's heavy artillery in this battle. She had been not been ordered into any of the assault teams, but was a backup unit, a reserve to be committed once the fire-teams were fully engaged.

"Yes sir," She responded. Pickman looked over at the map of the area placed in the back of the APC.

"Good" He responded. "Squad three is heavily engaged with a unit of paladins in an alleyway on 5th, lay down some suppressing fire to allow for a withdrawal."

Pickman was interrupted by the sound of gunfire from outside the APC. A moment later the firing ceased, and an object pierced the closed rear doors of the vehicle. Pickman looked over at it, terrified when he realized that the squad outside was likely dead, and the object piercing the door was a bayonet blade.

Pickman changed frequencies, knowing that Seras was already engaged. "This is Pickman, the command unit is under attack. Anderson is leading the assault." He stood up from his seat and moved over to the doors, Underdog ready.

* * *

Seras was worried when the transmission ceased, but she had been given her mission. She charged at superhuman speeds towards her assigned battlefield of the growing number of engagements across the area. 

She arrived at the alleyway to find the Hellsing mercenaries locked in a pitched gun-fight with the Iscariots. There were a few dead bodies lying on both ends of the alleyway, victims of the first shoot-out. The remaining members of both groups had taken cover behind dumpsters and debris.

Seras quickly decided to bust out the heavy artillery on the Iscariot unit. She quickly unstrapped her Harkonnen Cannon, and fired an explosive round into the center of the opposing side. The shot exploded in the middle of the Iscariot end of the alley, killing one paladin that had been too close the explosion and tossing around the Iscariots' cover and remaining troops from the shock.

The Hellsing force, badly mauled, began to move from cover. Seras reloaded as they retreated, firing another shot at the Iscariot unit as the Hellsing unit escaped.

Satisfied that she had taken out most of the Iscariots and successfully covered the withdrawal, Seras turned to leave the alleyway. She had taken two steps onto the street when she heard the sound of footsteps from the other end of the alleyway.

She turned around to face Iscariot's dynamic duo, Heinkel and Yumie. The two had been forced to circle around the building in order to avoid being caught on the open fire-escape during the previous battle. They had missed the end of the last battle, but were just in time to fight Seras.

Seras had no clue as to the identities of her opponents, only seeing them as fanatical enemies bent on the destruction of Hellsing. Although she wasn't far off in that assumption, she failed to take into account that they may be abnormally skilled.

Seras decided to end the encounter quickly. She began to reload her cannon while the assassins surveyed the damage done to their forces. Heinkel's hesitation dissolved once she realized what Seras was doing. A barrage of pistol shots struck the Harkonnen Cannon as Seras finished loading it. The damage rendered the weapon unusable and Seras was forced to toss it aside, furious to lose another one of the over-sized weapons.

Seras drew the pair of Casulls she had kept since her darker days. She drew a bead on Heinkel, only to have Yumie spring forward with superhuman ability, katana in hand. Seras' aim was interrupted by the sudden action, giving Heinkel enough time to dive for cover.

Seras turned her attention to the charging nun. Yumie was strafing down the alleyway, moving at a speed that would make it impossible for an ordinary human to aim at her. Seras reached out with her sixth sense, allowing her a clear shot despite Yumie's rapid movements.

Just as Seras was about to fire she was clipped in the shoulder by a shot from Heinkel. The Austrian Iscariot had finished her dive for cover and had popped up to back her partner. Seras was momentarily distracted by the shot, allowing Yumie to close to melee range.

Seras dodged the first lunge from Yumie, jumping back to put some distance between them. She soon realized the problem she was faced with. Yumie was incredibly aggressive, following Seras closely with difficult-to-evade slashes and thrusts, while Heinkel managed to provide enough cover fire to keep Seras from countering.

For her part, Seras was capable of dodging the brunt of Yumie's attacks, and the occasional bursts of fire she sent in Heinkel's direction were enough to keep the assassin from making any accurate shots on the vampiress.

It was clear however, that Seras would require the use of some higher level abilities to win this battle. She jumped back from another stab, this leap carrying her out of the alley and into the street beyond. She held her hands forward and shouted. "Releasing Control Art Restriction System to level one!" Despite the abilities no longer coming naturally to Seras, she was comforted by her access to them.

Heinkel and Yumie were puzzled by Seras' actions, not having heard of the binding process. Although they had paused their attack while Seras performed the power release, they quickly resumed when they didn't notice any visible difference in their opponent.

Seras quickly willed her aura to the surface. She smiled as the dark glow surrounded her, stopping the Iscariots in their tracks. Not yet comfortable with the idea of becoming a shapeless mass of shadows, Seras simply surrounded herself with the aura, summoning her familiar around herself.

Heinkel and Yumie had never faced a true vampire in battle before, mostly dealing with freaks and fanatics. Their lack of experience led to Heinkel emptying her array of handguns into Seras with no visible damage. Yumie however, although technically insane, was not stupid enough to get close to the transformed vampire. She stepped back, allowing her partner to attack at range.

Seras, absorbing all the damage Heinkel could dish out, lifted her pair of Casulls from the shadows, aiming one at each of the two agents of Iscariot. Heinkel and Yumie quickly decided that the battle could not be won, retreating quickly while Seras was still working out the mechanics of her transformed state.

Seras, having won the battle, withdrew her aura and collapsed. The damage done by Heinkel's barrage may have been physically non-existent, but it had drawn a great deal of Seras' power to maintain the transformation and regenerate from each shot.

Seras waited for her energy to recover, wondering what had happened to the other Hellsing units.

* * *

A/N: Ah, still a bit of a cliffhanger. Seras has driven off Heinkel and Yumie, but Pickman still faces Anderson. Can he survive? Probably. Well, next chapter: The return of Walter!(Another of my favorite characters). 

By the way. Heinkel and Yumie were mostly in action-mode for this chapter, so I held off on their personalities(that and I want to research them more before writing about them proper).

Oh yeah, please leave a review. I have gained such an appreciation for them.


	19. Chapter 17: Outmatched

Author's note: Again, thank you to my reviewers. Feedback is always appreciated. It's good to know that I've been giving the canon characters their due(I was sort of worried about that).

Also, in the case of Hellsing's poor luck, I blame Seras' unfortunate habit of attracting misfortune despite having done nothing to deserve it.

* * *

Pickman slowly opened the APC's rear doors, Underdog ready to fire. Outside he found a scene of devastation. The ten soldiers assigned to the command unit were all dead, numerous bayonets and slash wounds covered their bodies. Anderson, the only man who could create such a scene, was nowhere to be found.

Pickman was checking the area for surviving soldiers when he was interrupted by a laugh from above. "Ha! To think that the leader of your heretical organization would show his face on a battlefield against the true forces of God!" He looked up, seeing Anderson perched on the roof of a nearby building.

The paladin continued, the moon shining behind him. "There are no treaties, or vampires, or orders to stop us this time. I plan to take the time to enjoy ending your filthy Hellsing club, so don't think your death will be a quick one. I want you to suffer the righteous flames of Iscariot, before you're subjected to the unholy flames of Hell! Now, if you're not too afraid, let us be-"

Anderson was interrupted by a shot to the stomach. Pickman, out of sheer annoyance at Iscariots' habit of long-winded pre-battle speeches, had shot the paladin. The impact forced Anderson to lose his balance and fall to the ground below, letting loose a cloud of dust upon impact.

Pickman lowered the Underdog's sight and fired into the dust cloud where Anderson had landed. The shot landed in the dust cloud, causing a cloud of scripture to come flying from where Anderson was supposed to be. The dust cleared, revealing only street where Anderson had landed.

Pickman quickly surveyed the area. _How is that possible_? He thought. _There's too much I don't know about the powers that these paladins use_. Knowing that he had at least a short break from combat, he put out another call for assistance over his headset. "This is Pickman, I'm engaged with paladin Anderson. Requesting all available units to withdraw to the command post."

Before he could get a response, Pickman noticed a storm of scripture flying at him from down the street. He leapt out of the way, watching as the storm halted in front of him. The scripture fell away, revealing an unharmed Alexander Anderson.

"A cheap shot from a cheap organization." He said calmly while Pickman stared in shock. "It was my mistake really, I should have killed you before I starte-" Anderson was interrupted again as Pickman fired. Anderson, much more prepared this time, leaned back at super-human speed to evade the shot while simultaneously reaching into his coat for projectiles.

Pickman dashed for the APC after firing, rounding it just as Anderson threw a handful of bayonets at him. The blessed weapons struck the side of the APC harmlessly as Pickman used it for cover. The paladin simply laughed at the futile act. "You can't hide from the eyes of God!" He shouted. "You are far outmatched, lacking the fortitude of any opponent that could stand against me."

Pickman responded by popping out of cover and firing a quick pair of shots at the paladin. Anderson simply dodged the hastily aimed rounds before countering with a barrage of bayonets.

Pickman knew he was outmatched. He couldn't aim quickly enough to catch Anderson in a vital area, and the paladin had the advantages of mobility and durability. _He could just chase me back here_. Thought Pickman with dread. _He'd close in and slaughter me at melee range. Nothing I could do to stop it if I stay behind this vehicle_.

Pickman's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud footsteps approaching his cover. Pickman quickly dashed away from the vehicle, dropping into a roll as he dived from his cover. He pulled out a moment later and turned to where he had been standing moments ago.

Anderson was now occupying the spot, having leapt over-top the APC to catch Pickman by surprise. Pickman had luckily managed to turn the tables on the paladin by diving away from the vehicle. Anderson was now caught in the close-quarters between the APC and the row buildings it was parked beside.

Pickman quickly raised the Underdog and fired. Anderson raised his bayonets to intercept the bullet, only to have them snap under the heavy round. Pickman's second round struck Anderson in the side, forcing him to retreat to the back of the APC. Pickman managed to catch him with another body-shot as he retreated to cover.

Pickman took a mental count of the number of shots he had left. _Seven shots left_. He thought. _I know Anderson won't give me a chance to reload, so I need to make every one count_! He took aim at the APC, knowing that Anderson would move shortly.

The paladin, fully recovered from his previous injuries, dashed onto the street from APC's cover. Pickman tried to track the paladin, but the open area gave Anderson too much room to maneuver around the Underdog's laser sight.

Pickman was getting increasingly desperate as Anderson charged at him. He knew that he had to land a shot before the paladin could get close. He fired. _Six shots left_, he counted. _Five, Four_. It was no use, Anderson's evasion was barely even slowing him in his charge. _Three shots, damn it! Two shots_. Another round missed Anderson. _One shot_. The round went sailing past Anderson, grazing his shoulder but not slowing him down. Pickman's gun clicked as the clip emptied.

Anderson smiled in triumph, only a few feet away from Pickman. He stopped, raised one of his bayonets to deliver the killing blow, and dropped his arm.

Pickman raised the Underdog for what little protection it would give him and prepared for the attack. A moment passed and Pickman was puzzled as to what had happened. He looked up at Anderson only to see that the paladin's arm was suspended in mid-chop.

Anderson struggled with the force holding his arm back. Pickman noticed a circle of blood appearing on his forearm. Anderson gave up on that attack and rose his other arm, only to discover that it was being held back as well.

"Damn wires!" Cursed Anderson, and Pickman finally noticed what was holding the paladin back. He could see the shine in the moonlight, wrapped around Anderson's arms and waist, cutting deeply into the enhanced flesh.

Anderson finally gave up on the attack, disappearing in a flurry of scripture. Pickman looked around the street to see where the unexpected rescue had come from. He finally noticed the figure of Sir Hellsing's butler walking onto the street from a nearby alley.

"Walter!" He shouted out, running to greet the senior Hellsing member. "What are you doing out here?"

The old man smiled knowingly, "Well, I was asked by the Hellsing Arms group to check out their new weapon before they entered it into mass-production. Although I am, and always will be, Sir Integra's servant, I still have a degree of attachment to the organization itself. As so, I was given permission from Sir Integra to temporarily rejoin Hellsing during her imprisonment. In addition to supervising weapon design, I'll also be taking an advisory role in the operations of the organization."

Pickman looked confused. "But that still doesn't answer why you're here."

Walter's smile didn't falter under the question. "I had simply decided to come here to see the new Hellsing units in action. I was observing them when I picked up your transmission."

Pickman, although still suspicious, accepted Walter's explanation. Remembering the situation, he ran back to the bayonet riddled APC to supervise the Hellsing withdrawal.

_It appears as if Iscariot has been defeated in this battle_. Pickman thought, as the various squads began to report success. _That'll teach them for underestimating us_.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter done. However, does Integra have any ulterior motives in sending Walter to re-join Hellsing? And this is only round 1 of the Iscariot/Hellsing battles.

Well, regardless, please review. Be it three words or a hundred, I appreciate everything you guys could possibly think to say.


	20. Chapter 18: Weapons

Author's note: Due to 'complications' I was lacking in opportunities to access the computer. As a result, I missed yesterday's update and today's was rather short. I thank my reviewers for their patience and assure you that it -shouldn't- happen again anytime soon, and if it does, I'll toss in extended chapters to pick up the slack.

Also, I agree that Integra has the Organization's interests at heart. The problem, as will be seen later, is indeed in the Round Table. Also, appreciate the approval for the anti-prefight banter actions, although I'm not planning on overusing it. And yes, Walter's back, and he's needed too, as will be seen next chapter.

* * *

The hidden Nazi base in Brazil was alive with activity. The Major had been downcast since the defeat of Incognito, a failure that had blemished the previous successes of Millennium's plans. However, the recent discovery of Seras Victoria was enough to re-awaken the Major to the true path of victory. 

The Letztes Battalion was now mobilizing. The freak-chip manufacturing operation was renewed, and enhanced designs were being developed rapidly. Supplies were shipped in to bring the airship fleet online and armaments were being reassembled in preparation for the imminent offensive operation.

Major Montana Max sat in his chair, watching a variety of monitors depicting the activity. He smiled, knowing that Millennium was not defeated with a single loss. "After all," he remarked. "If we have anything at all, it's tenacity."

Doc entered the room, interrupting the Major's pleasure at watching his men gearing for war. "Sir, the new chip design is complete. We've factored every encounter with our previous makes into this new model. It makes use of the combat data of Luke Valentine, our various pawns and traitors scattered throughout the world, our numerous encounters with Alucard, and the data we had accumulated on Incognito before his failure. This new chip has far more power than it's predecessors, adding numerous factors that had eluded the previous designs"

The Major's smile broadened. Although the new chip couldn't be used on any of his existing vampires, he had just the agent in mind, and just the mission as well.

He turned to face Doc. "Excellent. Is our... former MI-5 agent ready?"

"Yes, despite having to remain underground after the incident. Are you going to re-activate him?"

"Indeed. I want you to send him the new chip. We'll use him to contact Miss Victoria. Despite her having gone back to Hellsing, I would like him to at least try to bring her to our side. If not, that new chip should give him the power to end her, as unfortunate as that would be."

The Doc acknowledged and left the Major to his thoughts. _She will join us_. He thought. _Her connections to Hellsing no longer exist. The power that our agent has, as an old acquaintance, should be more than enough to bring her to us. Without Integra or Alucard, our enemies are so weak. It's almost a shame to have removed them so cheaply. When Seras comes to our side, we will taste the joy of war forever. We need no demons! We can exceed them! How liberating the loss of Incognito has become_!

The self-admittedly insane Major's laughs echoed down the corridors of the base. The Letztes Battalion's preparations for war continuing.

* * *

Paladin Alexander Anderson was not looking forward to this call. He had just reported the results of last night's operation to Maxwell, and the bishop was not at all pleased. 

"How on God's Earth could we have lost 16 paladins during a single operation!" The bishop screamed into the phone. "I could understand it if the battle was just our infantry versus theirs, but you, Heinkel and Yumie were engaged as well! The battle should have been a slaughter, but now we have to pull back!"

Anderson winced at the failure. Not since his last battle with Alucard had he been so ashamed. "It appears that we underestimated a Hellsing-less organization." He remarked to his superior. "Their show of weakness was obviously a trick to drop our guard. They are much more devious than we anticipated, but we can still defeat them."

Enrico responded. "Not with only 19 paladins remaining under your command you can't! You've failed this time, but England still has no idea of the threat it faces. We could have saved them, but they chose to reject us. They have even denied a forced salvation."

Maxwell's voiced softened at this point. "But they haven't a chance against us in the long-run. Even if their new vampire is as skilled as Heinkel reported, she is still no Alucard. At this point all we can do is wait. Actually... We can do much more than that."

The bishop's tone became inspired. "Anderson, you and the others will wait in England. Try to harass Hellsing as much as possible, but take no open risks. I think it's time we tested the final fruits of our regenerative technology in this battle. Even in death, our paladins still serve God's plan!"

Anderson hung up, shaking his head. The latest experiments of Iscariot had been based on a gift from Hellsing, a chance to experiment with a existing regenerator. Anderson disapproved of the blasphemous results of the project. He also couldn't help but pity the humans of Hellsing who would be subject to it's wrath.

* * *

Pickman sat at his desk, looking over the report from last night's battle. Hellsing had lost only fifteen men during the encounter with Iscariot. This was mostly due to Seras' efforts in diverting the Vatican's crack assassins, as well as he and Walter's holding off of Anderson. 

_Still_, thought Pickman. _We've taken far too many casualties as of late. Nothing devastating, but the losses add up_.

He continued with the report. Anderson and his men were suspected of still being in England, leaving future encounters a certainty. The residences of the numerous freak vampires exterminated during the battle had refused yield any evidence towards Hellsing's true opposition.

_Yet their audacity continues_, thought Pickman. _It's only a matter of time before they slip up during an operation. Until then, we need to exterminate their agents and fight off the Vatican_.

Pickman checked the time, noticing that it was time for his meeting with the with Walter and the Underdog development team. Eager to get the powerful firearm into the hands of his troops he put away the report, got up, and exited the room.

* * *

A/N: A bit of a development chapter. Both Iscariot and Millennium are now deploying their new weapons against Hellsing. Iscariot with, well... you can guess, and Millennium with an enhanced freak-chip and an old friend to use it on. 

As usual, please review. I appreciate and enjoy it so much.


	21. Chapter 19: Returned

Author's Note: OK, things are going to start rolling at this point with a two-pronged Millennium/Iscariot attack. I also may have gone a tad resurrection crazy, but when they end up dead regardless, it doesn't really matter.

Also, I do agree with the importance of set-up. I was just a tad miserable last night; poor attitude and whatnot to blame, that and I take self-imposed deadlines most seriously.

As for the nit-picking, yay! I was nit-picked! The most I've gotten in the way of corrections so far is my annoying habit of thinking of the two prologue chapters as actual chapters and counting them when I update(An error with which I am thankful to reviewers for noticing, it's an annoying mistake to make). When I get some time, I'll re-upload the chapter with some corrections.

* * *

The agent of Millennium was waiting. He had been promised immortality in exchange for information and loyalty. He had given up everything in order to do so, losing his job and identity to cover his betrayal. Now he was receiving his reward. 

The chip had finally arrived at his doorstep, along with a detailed instruction manual and orders. The new freak-chip was not a tool as the others had been. It did not collect, transmit, and receive information. It had none of the independent functionality which had made collecting evidence on factories impossible. It was a weapon. It's sole purpose was to make it's user a vampire, one far exceeding even the greatest results of what the last chip could do.

The agent smiled as he looked over the name of his target. _Seras Victoria_, he thought. _I think I'll enjoy this_. He held up the new chip and placed it over his neck. The room shone with light as the chip activated and began it's work.

* * *

London was a different city at night. The trivial businesses of the day were lifted from the city. At night the predators, freak vampires, hunted for their prey, humans. However, they were not the ultimate predator of this night-world. 

Seras Victoria walked down the street, red eyes hidden behind sunglasses. She enjoyed the freedom of walking through the crowds. She almost felt as if she fitted in, were it not for what she was, and the mission she had been assigned.

She was deployed on an independent assignment, her first. The target was a vampire that had recently been discovered living in a nearby home. She would go without support due to the fact that the Hellsing mercenaries still required time to rest and regroup after last-night's battle.

_Not that I need support_, she thought confidently. _This should be a standard operation_.

She was right in that assumption. The moment she reached the home of the target, kicking down the door as she entered, a freak vampire attacked her. She quickly stunned the freak with a swift kick, finishing it off with a single shot from her Casull.

Having completed her mission, she put away her gun and began to leave the home. Just as she reached the doorway she was interrupted by a presence appearing in the hallway behind her. She turned around, seeing a figure clothed in shadows materializing behind her.

It spoke, "Ah, Miss Victoria. It's been awhile. You've become much more bold since our last conversation. Not surprising when one thinks about what's happened over the last few weeks."

Seras was puzzled by the voice. It was familiar, yet she had definitely not seen the figure before. "Who are you?" She asked of the newcomer.

"Oh, I forgot about the whole shadow thing. I do apologize, but I'm new with this whole 'vampire' routine. By the way, you may have some difficulties recognizing me in this form." The figure was revealed as a man. A younger version of a man that Seras was indeed familiar with.

"Harry Anders?" She asked, confused with the appearance of the MI-5 agent that she knew to be dead. "But, you're dead!"

"Actually I was alive up until a few hours ago." The agent responded, confirming his identity. "My superiors decided that I was too close to being discovered, so rather than eliminate me entirely; they chose to have me fake my death and go underground. The car bomb was an efficient way of removing evidence, and you made the perfect witness to the illusion."

"But why? Who are you working for?" Seras was still only beginning to understand the situation.

"I work for Millennium. I have been for the past fifteen years. I've been relaying information from MI-5 to them. Things like the freak-chip investigation for instance; were rendered impossible because I informed my superiors of your targets, allowing for their destruction before any evidence could be located."

He smiled at Seras, almost gloating about his betrayal. "My last mission was to evaluate the threat that England's neutral vampires represented. I used you as a distraction to keep Helena from reading too deeply into my mind and realizing my objectives. With the freak-chip design safe, and my last mission accomplished; my superiors decided that it was time to go underground to avoid discovery. Faking a martyr's death kept any suspicion off of me when MI-5 intensified it's investigation."

Seras was shocked at her misjudgment of Harry. "Why would you betray your country?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

"Immortality of course." Harry responded. "Time makes fools of us all; that is, with the exception of the vampire. A vampire is basically immortal. You can only be killed only by an aggressor; age and illness have no effect. I was growing old. At 50, one begins to see his own mortality. I simply chose the path that guaranteed continued existence. Can you really blame me?"

He paused, looking at Seras before continuing. "I came here today with an offer. Millennium wants you as a member. As an un-bound vampire, you can defect from Hellsing. You are free to join with others of your, pardon, our kind. Millennium can give you power and camaraderie. All you have to do is accept this offer and you gain immortal companionship."

Seras' face hardened. "I already have companions."

"Only temporary ones. Lets face it; forty, fifty years? Then they become old and die. It would be far better to share eternity rather than simply watch friend after friend die and be unable to follow them." Harry's face twisted into a smirk.

"Fine then," responded Seras. "How about this. I'm bound to Hellsing, and even if I wasn't, I would refuse to spend eternity with monsters like you and your 'Millennium'."

Harry lowered his head. "And here I was thinking we could pick up where we left off. I still owe you dinner and, with our tastes so much more in tune, I was hoping you'd collect. But I suppose I'll just have to kill you."

Seras smiled. "And just how are you going to do that? A freak vampire doesn't stand a chance against me."

Harry's smile broadened. "Ah, good things come to those that wait. I simply chose to prolong my mortality in service to Millennium, and the rewards were quite worth it. You see, I was given the final fruits of the freak-chip research. An unimaginably powerful chip. I'm more than a match for a natural vampire such as yourself."

An aura appeared around the freak vampire, an inky darkness surrounding him. Seras drew her two Casulls and quickly unlocked the Control Art Restriction System to level 1. The two vampires prepared for their duel.

* * *

Pickman's meeting with the Hellsing Arms Company had just been interrupted by an alarm and emergency call from the front gate. 

"We have an intruder at the front gate!" Came the voice of a panicked soldier. "He's slaughtering any units we send at him! Bullets are useless! Oh God-augh!"

Pickman quickly reached for the phone. Triggering the intercom he shouted, "All units, move to defensive positions. This is not a drill! Target is unknown, but is assumed to be either undead or a regenerator."

He hung up. _Anderson_, he thought, enraged at the audacity of Iscariot. _It must be him. Iscariot is finally attacking us head-on_!

Pickman jumped up from his chair and bounded down the third floor hallway towards a window overlooking the front entrance. From there he could see a tall figure walking across the grounds, soldiers shooting at it in the darkness to no avail. One by one, the lights from the firing Hellsing soldiers cut out.

_Damn it_, thought Pickman. _I need to get down there quickly_. He walked towards the staircase, meeting up with Walter along the way.

"Mind backing me up?" He asked the Hellsing butler.

"While I am retired," He responded. "I cannot allow this sort of invasion to occur again. You can count on my aid." The two moved down the staircase while the battle worked it's way up to the front door.

Walter and Pickman arrived at the front hall just in time to see the door smashed in. Pickman quickly raised his gun and fired into the figure beyond the doorway. The shots tore gaping holes into the unidentified enemy, yet he continued unfazed into the building.

The figure was revealed under the lights of the front hall. Pickman gasped at the sight of his former foe. "Brand!"

The paladin of Iscariot barely resembled his former self. The skin of the holy assassin had gone completely pale and his eyes were blackened. The paladin reminded Pickman more of the undead than the undead itself did.

The assassin lifted his head to look at Pickman. "You..." He managed to say, the words sounding tortured. "Once I kill you..." The wounds inflicted by the Underdog began to heal over; the paladin's flesh stretching like clay to cover the holes. His hands reached into his coat; pulling out his crossbow and knife.

Pickman fired another few rounds into the paladin. The first two shots hit the assassin's chest to no effect, but the third was a head-shot. The head-shot seemed to have inflicted actual damage, the paladin's skull having been destroyed by the high-powered round.

However, Brand was clearly no longer human. His neck stretched to cover the destroyed area. The flesh melted away, revealing a fully recovered paladin.

Pickman lowered his weapon at the futility of his attacks. "What are you?" He questioned.

Brand's face contorted into a weak smile. "I am your death... I was brought back for the sole purpose of killing you and your organization... However, when they brought me back from beyond... They missed some parts..."

Pickman had never seen a more tortured creature. "But, you died! I killed you! Not even regenerators can surpass death!" He shouted, completely shocked by the appearance of his one-time enemy.

The paladin responded in his pained tone. "Iscariot... They saw me as an opportunity to take regenerative technology to the next level... Up until now they've had an impossible time in mastering it... The chance to work with a regenerator corpse was too good to pass up... They deciphered and enhanced the technology... As for me... I was unfortunately revived in the process..."

Pickman, disgusted with the Vatican's actions, aimed at Brand and fired again. The resurrected paladin made no move to dodge the shots, simply taking the damage. Pickman's used his entire clip, firing shot after shot into the abomination. Brand's body simply regenerated with amazing speed to counter the powerful rounds.

Brand finally moved. He raised the crossbow faster than Pickman could see. However, before he could fire the shot; a wire jerked the crossbow, sending the shot off course. Walter had entered the battle.

The former Angel of Death quickly worked his steel wires, sending two wrapping around Brand's right arm and his crossbow. He gave a quick tug on the wire wrapped around Brand's arm, causing the wire sever the limb. He gave another tug on the other line to send the severed limb and crossbow away from the resurrected assassin's reach.

Brand's flesh simply stretched around where his arm had previously been, melting away to reveal a regenerated limb. The paladin shook his head. "You can't kill what's already dead..."

Pickman responded. "But you aren't truly dead. Your mind and body still function, don't they?"

Brand's expression became more pained than it had already been. "Yes... But you forget the most important element... My soul... It wasn't brought back... Maxwell promised to release me if I just killed you..."

Pickman was struck with pity for the soulless monster he was facing, but quickly realized his dilemma. _How the hell do I kill something like this_? He pondered. _He's not truly alive, and he can't be destroyed_!

Brand, having lost his crossbow, switched his knife to his right hand. The soulless monster stared at the two Hellsing members, it's face and eyes revealing nothing but loss. He charged the two without so much as a sound, knife raised.

* * *

A/N: Like I said, resurrection crazy. Seras has an amped up super-freak to face, while Pickman and Walter are left to fight the remains of paladin Brand. Of course, neither of these characters are as tough as Anderson, Alucard, or the Millennium Nazis. Anders and Brand just make a nice bridge before those characters start appearing proper. 

I've said it before, and I daresay I'll probably say it again. Please review. I enjoy any sort of commentary, editing, whatever. I approve of all forms of input, with the possible exception of unrelated advertising.


	22. Chapter 20: Release

Author's notes: I'm glad that Brand's reappearance received a warm reception. As for Harry; I did leave out some background information on him, as I forgot how minor a character he actually was(to me, he always remains a reminder that any guy who even thinks about hitting on Seras either dies or gets arrested "If I were twenty years younger..." Bam!).

By the way. I still enjoy the nit-picking. It's good to know someone can nail my odd usage of words.

* * *

Seras faced off against the traitorous MI-5 agent. For a man facing the true undead, Harry Anders was remarkably confident. _Does he know what he's up against?_ Thought Seras, shocked that a man that she had perceived as intelligent was trying to fight her with only a freak-chip on his side. She readied her Casulls; restrictions on power released. 

Harry sprung into action with speed that put the dazzling display by Luke Valentine to shame. He quickly bounded down the hallway towards Seras; who countered with supernatural accuracy, hitting the traitor with a shot to the chest before he could reach her.

Harry paused after taking the hit, looking down at the minor wound. Moments later, his aura filled the bullet hole, repairing the damage done to flesh and clothing. He laughed while Seras stood puzzled, having witnessed a freak unlock a skill normally reserved for true vampires.

He looked up from the former wound to face her. "Don't you see?" He said confidently. "This fight is futile. It took everything you had just to hit me with such a weak shot. For a silver bullet it barely pierced my skin! Also, you can see that I can take the remaining ten shots you have left with very little trouble."

Seras frowned, realizing her Casulls weren't going to win this fight for her. "Damn, I was hoping not to use this again. Really, tearing people apart isn't my thing." She summoned her aura around herself, allowing her vampire side to fully awaken. To keep Harry from interfering, she reached outwards with her Casulls and began to empty the clips at the now rapidly dodging agent.

By the time Harry had finished evading her fire; Seras' body was lost under the thickening aura. He quickly reached into his coat for a pistol, firing it to no avail. "Fine then!" He shouted. "Take this!" He dropped the gun and hunched over, his body shaking as he summoned his own chip-induced aura. An inky darkness rose from Harry to counter Seras' dark blue aura.

Seras finished her transformation first; her transformed body emerging from the enveloping aura. Harry reached out towards her; tendrils of darkness extending from his aura, targeting the true vampire. Seras simply sidestepped the poorly aimed attack as she charged the treacherous freak. Her claws came down on Anders' outstretched arm, removing the limb. He leapt back at superhuman speed, clutching the stump where his arm had been.

"You... you bitch!" He stammered, unable to believe the power of his foe. A set of tendrils wrapped around the severed limb however, pulling it back onto the agent's body. His confidence restored, he took another shot at Seras; sending another set of tendrils shooting from freak aura.

Seras dodged the clumsy assault with ease, rapidly closing the distance between the two foes again. This time she cut into the traitor's chest, sending Anders flying back from the attack's momentum.

The agent of Millennium stood; the cavities in his chest healing under his aura. This time he knew that Seras would require the full use of his new powers to defeat. "I'll admit that my lack of experience puts me at a disadvantage," he said. "But this'll make up for it in raw power!" Harry's veins began to run black with the freak-chip's contamination. Within moments of his declaration; the same black tendrils from his aura began to burst from his arms, thrashing around him.

Seras grinned in response to her foe's enhancement, resuming her charge against the freak. Her claws were more than enough to bat away the freak's tendrils, allowing her to get within inches away of Harry's face. The traitor was now visibly scared, having his new powers defeated within hours of attaining them.

Seras had no final words to say to the man, choosing instead to rip him apart with her claws. She disassembled the freak; stabbing through his face with her right arm, while her left arm cut across the agent's upper body. The following slashes removed the freak's arms. Within a few moments of her assault, Harry Anders had been reduced to a bloody pile of limbs and organs.

Seras released her aura when she sensed the freak-chip which had occupied Harry's body shut down. She turned away from the bloody mess, disgusted that she had been forced to destroy a former friend in such a brutal manner.

She quickly remembered to contact headquarters for a disposal team. However, all she received on the radio was static from Hellsing HQ. Seras realized that the Hellsing Manor was likely under attack and took off at full speed towards the besieged building.

* * *

Walter and Pickman stood before the resurrected paladin wreaking havoc in the Hellsing Headquarters. Brand charged the pair, knife raised above his head. 

Walter leapt into the air, sailing over the charging paladin's head while wrapping a set of wires around his waist. He landed behind the paladin, using the monster's own momentum to increase the cutting power of the wires. Brand's charge quickly separated his body into halves, both parts falling to the ground.

Pickman quickly finished reloading the Underdog and proceeded to shoot the paladin while he was down; firing shot after shot into the upper half of Brand in an attempt to shut down the monster's regenerative abilities.

The attempt failed however, as Brand's upper body absorbed and healed the damage with ease, while his lower half independently moved itself to re-attach itself to the upper. Within moments, Brand was back on his feet. He stood only a few feet from Pickman, knife still clutched in his right hand.

Pickman fired at the paladin's chest; the heavy rounds succeeding in stunning Brand while Pickman backed away from the paladin towards the basement staircase. The paladin didn't chase Pickman, instead taking a moment to rest after having regenerated so much of his body. Walter moved away from the front door, taking the opposite side of the hall from Pickman. The two had Brand pincered between the central staircase and front door.

The paladin laughed at the futile gesture. "I told you..." He rasped. "It's useless to fight... You can't kill me..." Walter, in response to the paladin's comments; sent another set of wires flying at Brand. The time the paladin caught the wires with his arm; pulling against them in order to push Walter off balance.

The Hellsing butler quickly detached that set, avoiding the paladin's attempt to gain control over the deadly weapon. The battle seemed futile though. Brand was capable of massive regeneration, and he lacked the weaknesses that made it possible to kill vampires with the same abilities.

The paladin labeled Walter as the greater threat, charging at the wire-fighting Angel of Death. He never reached his target however, as Pickman quickly targeted Brand's legs and fired, sending the assassin sprawling to the ground.

Walter took the opportunity to slip away from the paladin; changing wires as he moved away from the downed regenerator.

Brand stood up, the hole shot through his leg closing. He turned towards Pickman in response to the attack, only to give Walter the opportunity to get another set of wires around his chest. The paladin again responded by grabbing the wires connecting him to Walter, ignoring the damage his hands would sustain by pulling on the wires. This time however, Walter countered the clumsy grab by shifting the wires' position, slicing Brand's fingers to pieces as he attempted to grab them.

Pickman took advantage of the opportunity by taking aim at Brand's head; firing a shot that shattered the paladin's skull, sending him tumbling to the ground. The Hellsing commander reloaded, taking a short break from the unceasing battle. "How do we stop this guy?" He asked Walter, even as Brand's head began to regenerate.

"I'm afraid I'm at a loss..." Walter responded, repositioning himself away from the paladin. "But it appears that we can at least keep him at bay until reinforcements arrive."

"What's keeping them anyways?" Pickman said. The Wild Geese had lost several members during Brand's assault on the front gate, but there were still numerous defense teams stationed around the mansion.

Brand stood up, his head completely restored. He looked at the his two opponents, unable to decide who to go after. He began to back away from Walter, knife raised to deflect any wire attempts. He stood in the center of the hallway, Walter and Pickman facing him from opposite ends.

Brand gave a light smile, saying, "This was... Interesting... But I'm tired of this... So very tired..." The monster of Iscariot reached into his coat; pulling out a pair of small crossbows. He aimed at both his opponents before they could react, pulling the trigger before either could have a chance to interfere. Just as the crossbows fired however, Brand was launched forwards by a grenade detonating on his back. The shots went astray, hitting the ground as Brand's arms were forced backwards by the explosive impact.

Pip stood in the shattered doorway, holding an M4 with a smoking M203 grenade launcher mounted under the barrel. Brand had been blown into the central staircase, a huge chunk of flesh missing from his back and the rest badly burnt. Pip reached for another grenade round, loading it into the M4's launcher.

Brand quickly stood and leapt to the left in order to avoid the attack, only to find that Walter had already jumped to the top of the staircase and was holding Brand back using his wires. The paladin quickly reached for the wires, only to have a pair of Underdog rounds strike him in the side. The paladin, despite being doomed, showed no sign of fear or panic at the coming assault, merely acceptance.

Pip's second grenade was perfectly aimed, destroying Brand's upper-body beyond recognition. The paladin's insides began to bubble as the regenerative process took effect. Pickman quickly emptied his clip into Brand's open chest, destroying the paladin in a display of gore.

Pip loaded his launcher and fired a third grenade into the paladin for good measure, disfiguring the corpse beyond recognition. The trio lowered their weapons, convinced that there was no way Brand's regenerative abilities could cover so much devastation.

The three stood silently, catching their breath after the battle. Pickman broke the silence "This time... We're not sending his remains back to the Vatican." He said. "I really don't want him coming back again."

* * *

A/N: Well, I decided to go and off both Brand and Harry. Sorry if it seemed too soon, but I really didn't see much of a future in those characters. 

In Brand's case, it was an act of mercy. It sort of depressed me to have a soulless, undead, tortured, regenerator wandering about, especially when you consider it was a bit strange of me to bring him back in the first place(mind you, it definitely alters Iscariot's perspective on the regeneration technology, which is where his real purpose lies).

In Harry's case, well, he was an arrogant distraction who served a vital purpose by mentioning Millennium, plus he hit on Seras during the series, thus marking him for execution.

Well, there's also the fact that I wanted to end this particular story arc. Coming up: The Return of Integra! Followed by the appearance of Millennium(finally).

As usual, feel free to leave a review. Man, this chapter seems to have taken so long, yet it's so short! Action scenes really are one of the harder things to write, but hey, practice makes perfect.


	23. Chapter 21: Traitors

A/N: Well, the Iscariots and Millennium have been beaten back(for now), allowing for the main storyline to begin. My update schedule has been frazzled as of late, and will likely remain so until I get my university schedule sorted and get into a routine.

As for the cruelty to Seras, heck, she's Hellsing's official punching bag. It's literally her fate to be miserable. That curse also tends to inflict itself on any men who attempt to get close/hit on her(Gareth, Steadler, Anders, Paul Wilson, and Pip-in the manga. Even Pickman was her superior at one point and he didn't even touch her!). It was a disturbing trend to pick up on. But hey, maybe as the story goes on I'll try to reverse that, maybe give Pip a chance to live through liking her.

And the nit-picking, hey, it's good to know when I make a minor mistake. Those must be purged and corrected before I can get any better at writing.

But hey, I'm mostly stalling on introducing the new plot at this point. So, onto the story!

* * *

Pickman was taking a walk on the Hellsing grounds, a report of the previous night's activities in hand. The resurrected paladin Brand had managed to kill another thirteen Wild Geese during his attack. This combined with the previous engagements with Seras and Iscariot had brought the unit casualties above forty percent. 

Pickman knew that Pip, although happy with the pay, was outright furious at the losses sustained. It would also be awhile before the mercenary captain would be willing to trust Seras; despite the fact that she was female. It was also more than likely that Hellsing would be forced into yet another rebuilding before long. Which was likely why Sir Islands had requested a meeting with him earlier in the morning.

Pickman shook his head in frustration. The organization was defeating it's enemies, but taking a terrible death toll in the process. Seras' presence helped make up for the losses, yet the Wild Geese were still on the verge of quitting; survival instincts overpowering financial benefits.

He rounded the mansion, reaching the car awaiting him at the front door. Pickman entered the vehicle, the engine starting as the driver began the trip to Westminster; where the Round Table Conference was awaiting Pickman's report.

* * *

Sir Islands waited with the other nine members of the Round Table Conference; they had yet to replace Integra and the former head of Media Management. The time had finally come to evaluate the performance of the Hellsing Organization after it's re-construction. The evaluation of the organization, as well as the gauging of Pickman's reaction to some recent news, would decide the existence of the Hellsing Organization under his command. 

Pickman walked through the door leading into the conference room. He took a seat opposite of Sir Islands. Islands addressed the commander, the other conference members simply observing. "We have called you here today to announce the results of our evaluation of the Hellsing Organization. The report we used had been compiled based on the observations of you, your agents, and MI-5 observers."

Pickman nodded as Sir Island's continued. "Based on the report, your organization has suffered heavy casualties, something that would justify the disbanding of a regular unit. However, the quality of opposition you have been facing well justifies your losses. The purpose of the Hellsing Organization has always been to be able to confront and defeat enemies of supernatural power, and your actions have been along that path. In addition, the recovery of Officer Seras Victoria is a gain well worth the casualties suffered in the process. As such, we have decided to leave you in command of the organization, permanently."

Pickman was taken aback by the declaration. _After all_, thought Islands. _Sir Hellsing was eventually supposed to be released. Our most recent news however, changes that_.

"Wh... What do you mean?" Pickman asked.

"Exactly what I said," responded Islands. "We received a report earlier this morning that Sir Hellsing had broken out of the Tower of London. It is believed that she used her pet vampire, Alucard, to facilitate the escape. Although no one was harmed the breakout, she is to be considered an extremely dangerous rebel."

The other knights in the conference lowered their heads in shame at the actions of the once-respected leader of Hellsing.

"Is there any motivation for this?" Asked the current Hellsing commander.

"We have two motives so far." Answered Islands. "Firstly, there is the possibility that imprisonment and, at least to her, betrayal didn't sit well with her. The second motivation is far more likely however. Minutes before her breakout, a letter from the Vatican was brought to her by her servant, Walter. This letter was accompanied by a copy of Seras Victoria's report on last-night's activities."

Pickman raised an eyebrow at the implications of Integra breaking out after receiving a letter from the Vatican. "Do we have any idea as to the contents of the Vatican's message?"

"No," responded Islands. "Walter had received the letter a day ago, and we have no reason to search his mail; or rather we didn't at the time. Walter's role as an accomplice in this escape is proven. Moments before you arrived, we received word that a private jet had been hijacked. The hijackers were confirmed by security cameras to be Walter, Integra, and the odd shadow that we can identify as Alucard."

"Well then," said Pickman, now seemingly unfazed by his former superior's treachery. "Was the jet's destination confirmed?"

"That leads us to Hellsing's latest mission." Said Islands, a smile appearing on his face. "We confirmed it to be heading towards South America. Based on the results of our current investigation of this 'Millennium' Organization, we have also confirmed that the intended destination of at least one of our recent traitors, in this case a former knight of the Round Table, was Brazil. Based on this information we can only guess that Integra has either gone off half-baked to fight this enemy, or she has decided to join them."

Sir Islands carefully gauged Pickman's reactions to the situation. The commander had seemed shocked at the betrayal, yet had regained his cool by now. _Likely not an Integra loyalist_, he concluded. "As such, it has been decided that a Hellsing unit, led by you, Captain Bernadotte, and Officer Victoria will go to Brazil undercover. From there you are to hunt down and capture these fugitives. In the meantime, the soldiers that we have been training to rebuild the Hellsing membership will take over vampire hunting under the remaining officers of the Wild Geese."

Pickman accepted the orders and stood up to exit the conference room. Sir Islands raised a hand to stop him.

"By the way," he added. "If you find that Integra is too difficult a target to capture alive, you have permission to kill her, and any of her accomplices. We cannot permit a former head of the Royal Protestant Knights to either join the enemy or be captured by them. She knows far too much about our organization and defenses; far more than any Round Table member with the exceptions of myself and Sir Penwood."

Pickman nodded again and exited the room. A secretary closed the door behind him.

Islands looked over the members of the Round Table Conference, a grin spread wide across his face. "Gentlemen," he said. "Our objectives are finally nearing completion. With the death of Integra Hellsing, we can finally drop this facade and take over the country proper. The deal we have made with Millennium guarantees our immortality and ownership of this country for eternity."

* * *

A/N: A brief update at best. As you can see, Integra, Alucard and Millennium will finally be entering the fold. As well, the Round Table Conference has gone treacherous. The story's main plot can now finally begin; the destructive chain of events which will lead into the nightmare of the Manga storyline(not quality wise, I mean it's like a nightmare. The manga was really well done). 


	24. Chapter 22: Standoff

Author's Note: Well, the storyline continues. The Hellsing Organization is now moving on to Brazil to hunt down Integra, Walter, and Alucard. Meanwhile, a treacherous Round Table Conference works on their own agenda.

It's good to see that the traitorous Round Table was a surprise. Of course, like most things in Hellsing, things may not be exactly as they appear.

Also, I had honestly forgotten about the Queen's influence on the Round Table; a relationship that may come into play later, but still fit into my general plan for resolving that situation.

* * *

Pickman looked out the window as the private jet landed at the Brazil's central airport in Rio De Janeiro. The sky was dark, enhancing the lights of the city. Pip, and the other twelve Wild Geese brought along for the hunt, sat back in their chairs; taking a break after the stress-filled week before. 

Pickman spared a glance to the rear of the compartment, where Seras was waiting. The police girl had been pretty shaken up from traveling overseas.

Vampires had several mobility-hindering weaknesses. They hated sunlight, and couldn't cross running water. The water weakness was their most hindering. It had served to control the vampire population over the centuries; keeping them from spreading outside of the territories where they had been created; and especially serving to prevent them from infiltrating the 'New World' during the colonial days.

Until the advent of air travel, only powerful vampires could directly stand being on a ship at sea; and even then they would be extraordinarily uncomfortable unless they were safely inside a coffin. Air travel allowed for vampires to cross the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans with little difficulty. They still hated the trip, but it did create the need for minor vampire hunting agencies in North and South America to be founded, and for an expansion to the existing Iscariot Organization.

The Hellsing members filed out of the plane, Brazilian military units checking their gear as they exited.

The Round Table Conference had already agreed with the Brazilian government on the handling of the situation. Despite Brazil being a country in the Iscariot Organization's territory; they still accepted the aid of Hellsing in tracking down Integra, and fighting the Millennium Organization. Although why they allowed Hellsing to interfere in what should be a private matter for them was beyond Pickman.

The Hellsing unit would work with the Brazilian police and intelligence services in order to locate Integra Hellsing. Once she was discovered, it would be up to the Hellsing unit to capture her. _They_ _probably want to let us handle Alucard_, thought Pickman. _Although even with Victoria; he would still be able to wipe us out_.

That left two options for Pickman. One, kill Integra from a distance and hope that it would distract Alucard and Walter long enough for the unit to escape. Or the second option, which Pickman had wanted to explore since he had first heard the news.

_We need to get in contact with them and find out what's going on_. He decided_. It must be serious if it required Sir Hellsing to disobey the Round Table and escape_.

A car quickly drove up the tarmac, screeching to a halt as a government aide charged out to meet the Hellsing group. "You arrived just in time!" Shouted the aide, breathless. "We just received word from the police! Integra Hellsing and her accomplices have been located!"

Pickman immediately turned his full attention to the man. He hadn't expected Integra to be located so soon.

"Earlier today," the man continued. "The jet that they had hijacked crashed outside the capital. Based on the information we had been given, we doubted that they had perished in the explosion and instead ordered a full alert in the city. One of our agents had the luck of noticing the Hellsing's butler reserving the top-floor suite of the Hotel Lio. We have the area cordoned, there's no chance of them escaping."

Pickman, eager to find out his superior's motivations, asked, "Well, get some transportation over here! We need to get there as soon as possible. Your police units will be slaughtered if they try to engage Integra and her guards!"

The group embarked towards the besieged hotel, unprepared for the situation they would encounter.

* * *

Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing looked out the hotel window as police and media units began to surround the hotel. She had expected as much. The trio of her, Walter, and Alucard had embarked into enemy territory without any real knowledge of the enemy's location. They were relying on Millennium coming out into the open in response to the incursion. 

_It's working_, she thought. _To an extent. These police units are only pawns. We need to force them into deploying someone of value for Alucard to interrogate. From there, they'll be forced into the open_.

Integra had chosen this course of action the moment that Walter had accomplished his mission of identifying the enemy. The combination of the name 'Millennium' from Seras' report, combined with the detailed letter from the Vatican's Section XIII, had forced her into making the hasty decision of leaving Great Britain.

_The only question is, why did Maxwell send me that letter? Why reveal to us that the Nazi vampire project, Millennium, had been incubating in South America all these years?_ She pushed the thoughts aside as she concentrated on the situation at hand.

Police units would surely enter the building soon. From there she would have a choice to make. The choice of whether the police would live, or die. _To let them live would show weakness_, she thought. _It would show them that we are unprepared to face their true agents in battle. I cannot allow them to gain that impression of us! If they do, we'll never find out more about them_.

"Alucard," she said; the vampire appearing behind her. "When the police move in, kill them all. We are not weak. We will not allow them to toy with us. Crush their puppets and drag their puppeteer into the open!" The order was clear. Alucard moved to the door leading into the hallway, prepared to carry it out.

Walter sat back in his chair, ready to support Alucard in his work, but knowing that the vampire would be able to accomplish the objective easily enough. He only pitied the poor officers; conned into fighting an impossible enemy for the dreams of madmen.

* * *

Pickman's team arrived at the hotel after a short car ride. Police and media had ringed the building. Lights were flashing and voices were shouting as the circus of a standoff continued. 

Pickman was asked by a nearby police lieutenant to meet the government liaison in charge of the situation, alone. Pickman separated from Pip and Seras, and entered the command tent.

Officers inside the tent were frantically coordinating an intrusion effort. Pickman ignored the men, and continued to a table in the center of the tent, where a man dressed in a white suit was seated. He looked more like a professional gambler than a government official.

"Ah," he said smoothly. "Good to see you. I was wondering when you and your men would show up." He paused, noticing Pickman's eyes on his suit. "Oh, this," he remarked. "I was out on the town when I received the report. Didn't have time to change." He held his hand out to Pickman. "Name's Tubalcain Alhambra. Pleasure to meet you."

Pickman didn't like the look of this man. The way he appeared seemed... off. Pickman looked around the command tent, commenting. "You know. I couldn't help but notice that you've begun some sort of intrusion effort. That is our job you know."

"It's all right," said Tubalcain enigmatically. "They wanted it. The men wanted to take on this fugitive. Can you blame them for not wanting to rely on foreign interference?"

Pickman shook his head. "Still, they have no chance at all of success."

"Well," Tubalcain said, uncaring. "If nothing else, it'll show what kind of enemy we face. If this Hellsing woman has the kind of power that's been reported; she won't have to kill the police in order to stop them. If she does, it'll confirm that she is indeed a threat that requires being taken down."

Pickman couldn't help but notice that Alhambra was almost disregarding him in his speech. The man seemed to be speaking more to himself than to Pickman. Tubalcain's focus resumed a moment later though.

"Of course, they're only taking first crack at the target. If they fail, you get to go in." He said. "Although I, of course, would hate for that situation to occur."

A frantic radio call drowned out the chatter inside the tent. "This is the hallway team! We've lost contact with the entry unit. Gunfire reported."

Tubalcain smiled at Pickman, unnerving the Hellsing commander. "Well," he said, with anticipation rather than fear. "Looks like you'll get a shot after all."

Pickman could only shake his head at the thought of this man's reckless throwing away of the lives of his men.

* * *

A/N: Well, if you've read the manga; you have a good idea of what's going to happen next. Of course, the situation is different this time. 

Oh yeah, please review. One would think that I would get tired of reviews after working on this for a solid month(and what a short month it has been). But no. Reviews are always welcome, and shall always be read and appreciated.


	25. Chapter 23: Elevator Action

Author's Note: Well, as you've been seeing lately; my update schedule is really messed up. Chances are it'll be stabilized within the next few weeks; but in the meantime, I'll be more-or-less updating whenever I get some free time.

Heh, to think that after a month straight of updating(30,000 words give-or-take), I finally reach the beginning of the chain of manga events that leads to the climax of the Hellsing series.

As for the coffin thing. I figured I'd cut Seras a break; what with all my recent punching-bag comments all. Sure I could've repeated the cruel hilarity of the manga, but I just couldn't bring myself to torture her(again). Plus I figured air travel would circumvent the whole coffin deal.

And as for Seras pointing out Dandy Man Alhambra's vampirism; well, there was a reason why Pickman was asked to go alone to meet Alhambra.

Well anyways, onto the story.

* * *

"This is Diero Team. We are outside the suite and are prepared to attack." Came the voice of the assault-team captain. 

"Roger that. Terminate all hostiles. Don't hesitate to use lethal force." The controller responded via radio.

The Diero Team smashed open the suite doors, sending light and officers pouring into the room beyond. The team quickly swept the room before moving into the next. The captain kicked open the door, police officers behind him.

Alucard watched as the door was kicked open. He could only smile at the men as they pointed their puny weapons at him. He started walking towards them.

"Fire!" The captain ordered. His men rushed to comply, sending a ridiculous number of lethal rounds at the immortal vampire. Alucard collapsed in torn-up heap from the massive physical damage.

"Man, I know they ordered us to shoot on sight, but this is ridiculous." Commented one of the officers, looking down at the 'corpse'.

"Quiet." The captain said. "There's still two more targets to handle." He moved over to the next door. Just as he prepared to kick it down however, a voice surrounded the men.

"Really. Do you think that your pathetic weapons are enough to stop me?" Came the voice of Alucard.

The officers turned to face the body, surrounded by a dark aura and beginning to stand up. Alucard faced the men, completely regenerated. He spread his arms, beckoning the officers to attack again.

Faced with the impossible, most of the officers dropped their weapons in fright. The others simply stood their ground, shaking in terror at the supernatural sight of the vampire.

"What pathetic spirit!" Alucard said, beginning to walk towards the Diero Team. "What are you, cowardly dogs?" He made a quick lunge, stopping in front of the team captain. The man broke down and turned his eyes away from the monster.

"Dogs can't kill monsters." Was all Alucard said before he tore out the man's throat with a lightning strike. He then dispatched the rest of the team; killing them one after the other, while they stood paralyzed in shock at the inhumanity of their opponent.

Only one officer remained of the team. Alucard advanced on him, still carrying the body of one of the officer's comrades. The man pulled out his handgun, causing Alucard to grin. _Finally one of them has the guts to fight_. He thought. He was proved wrong however, when the officer used the weapon to shoot himself in the head rather than fight. Alucard frowned in disgust at the ultimate act of cowardice.

Alucard continued into the hallway, another unit of police waiting for him. He casually walked into the middle of the group, producing his guns while they stood in shock. Alucard began shooting at the police with no provocation, causing a quick and brutal fire-fight.

Alucard paused the massacre, having run out of ammo for his Casull and Jackal. The surviving officers fell into retreat, desperate to escape the inhuman vampire. Only one officer stood his ground, firing burst after burst of MP5 ammo into Alucard.

Alucard paused his reloading to look at his lone opponent. The bullets themselves were doing no damage, but the officer was alternating his targets in an attempt to find a weakness on Alucard.

Alucard smiled at the determination of his opponent, stepping forward only to see the officer step back in order to keep range between them. He reached out into the man's mind, seeing that the officer truly believed that he was protecting people by fighting Alucard and was willing to die before surrendering to fear.

One of the retreating officers, the captain of the hallway team, shouted out to the lone officer. "Oliveira! Get out of there!" The officer disregarded the order however, choosing to stand and fight Alucard.

Alucard admired the spirit of his opponent, allowing the man to run out of ammo in his fruitless pursuit of victory before dashing up to him and batting him into the wall with a light strike. The officer collapsed, unconscious. Alucard ignored him and continued after the cowardly survivors who had made a break for the elevator.

The elevator team had just been pushed aside by their retreating comrades, desperate to escape Alucard's wrath. "What's going on!" Shouted a member of the elevator team.

"It's a monster!" Replied the surviving captain of the hallway group. "He butchered the rest of the squad and he's right behind us. We need to get out of here now!"

The figure of Alucard appeared in the hallway. He quickly shot a few stragglers, encouraging the surviving officers to frantically escape. The elevator doors began closing as Alucard drank the blood of the fallen officers. Before the door finished closing however, he brought his gaze upon one of the men, easily hypnotizing the weak-willed officer into pressing the 'open' button.

The hypnotized officer's comrades quickly tried to detach the man from the elevator's control panel, going as far as shooting him in their attempt to escape.

Alucard had no respect for such self-serving tactics. He reached the doors as they closed; jamming his guns between them to stop the action. The officers inside could only look on in terror as Alucard forced open the doors and stepped inside.

"Thank you for your hard work." He said sarcastically to the officers, holding his guns in front of him. "Goodbye."

The elevator doors shut, cutting off the screams of the men inside.

* * *

The situation outside the hotel was frantic. The reports from the officers inside the hotel were filled with destruction; ranting about an invincible monster before ending with a gunshot or the sickening sound of a man being torn apart. 

Pickman turned to his team. "All right," he said. "Here's the situation. Alucard is ripping apart the police units that were sent into the hotel. At this point we can assume that Sir Hellsing has gone insane, using Alucard on helpless humans."

"Actually," cut in Seras. "There may be more to it than that."

"Explain." Ordered Pickman.

"Well, firstly, that Tubalcain guy? He's a vampire."

"What?"

"He thought he could hide it by inviting you to meet him alone. But I picked him up a minute ago when the reports of the massacre were reaching him."

"Why was that?"

"Well," she stammered. "Carnage has a way of making vampires... more noticeable."

Pickman realized with outrage that Tubalcain's blood had probably just been boiling at the thought of those helpless meat-sacks being wiped out by Alucard.

"OK," he began, starting to realize Integra's intentions. "New plan. We'll still go to the first floor to meet Alucard. That is, except for you, Pip." He looked over at the mercenary captain.

"I want you to take out the police command tent the moment that they begin mobilizing for a second run. After that, hijack a chopper and meet us at the hotel roof. Since this is the tallest building in the area, we won't have to worry about snipers intercepting us up there."

"Got it," confirmed Pip. "The money's good, so you can count on me for this one." He backed off from the group, losing himself in the crowd of officers and media.

Pickman, Seras, and the twelve mercenaries passed the police line, venturing into the hotel of death to confront Alucard.

* * *

Tubalcain Alhambra watched from a distance as the Hellsing unit moved forward to crush their own commander, careful not to reveal his presence to the vampire they had tagging along. _How ironic_, he thought. _It doesn't matter which of them win though. I'll finish off whoever survives_.

* * *

A/N: Well, I just wanted to get that chapter out of the way. Copying directly from the manga isn't terribly interesting, so I've been keeping my spin on all this; though Alucard's massacre was pretty straightforward, not much I could do to liven it up. 


	26. Chapter 24: Answers

Author's Note: As usual, the fic must go on. Don't worry about me overdoing it in regards to updating. This is simply something to do during that odd hour of free time; beats sitting in front of a TV.

Also, Lennox; I can't believe you caught the use of Carlos Oliveira's name. Really, I just tossed it in there, but I never expected anyone to notice it! Really; I was just thinking, 'what's a good name for the situation?' Then pow, I toss in an obscure reference to Resident Evil and it's caught within the first day of posting. Freaky perception, man. Either that, or I'm overreacting to something that was sorta obvious. Whether he appears again though, is something the jury is still out on.

Also, I got added to a C2! I'm assuming this is a good thing; hence the celebration. The Remarkable Hellsing Fiction archive. Thus, I shall take it as an honor and hope for some recognition. Thanks to my reviewers for keeping my moral up during this month of writing(I only hope this group doesn't fire off one of their uber-attack reviews at me. If it weren't for the fact that those fics tend to be legitimately bad, I'd pity the authors who have to deal with them; hell, I still pity the authors. But I don't know that I'm avoiding the mistakes they like to capitalize on).

Well, onto the fic.

* * *

The elevator reached the first floor, it's undead passenger waiting aboard. All he had to do was sweep the first floor of hostiles and he would be finished his mission.

Alucard watched as the doors opened, revealing his former-fledgling wielding a pair of Casulls aimed at his face. Behind her stood Pickman and the Wild Geese squad.

"Police girl," he said, amused at her presence. "A beautiful night, isn't it?"

Pickman held up his gun, addressing Alucard. "What is Sir Integra up to?" He asked, hoping for the vampire to resolve his master's motivations.

"Why?" Alucard questioned, toying with the Hellsing commander. "Are you here to stop me?"

"Well, no; not yet anyways." Pickman responded. "We actually wanted to speak with Sir Integra."

"Hmm..." Alucard pondered for a moment. "Very well; my mission is now complete, so go ahead." He stood aside, allowing the group passage into the elevator.

Pickman looked at the elevator, a pile of torn-up police officers on it's floor. He quickly looked away from the scene. "Actually," he said. "If it's all the same to you; we'd rather take the other elevator."

* * *

Integra waited on the hotel's top floor for Alucard to return. The mission the vampire had been given was brutal, but necessary. _At least he doesn't take any enjoyment out of it_, she thought.

A knock came from the door. Walter rose and opened it, revealing Alucard; behind him standing Seras, Pickman and the others.

"What on Earth are you all doing here?" She asked, amusement sobered by the previous massacre.

"We were sent by the Round Table Conference to retrieve you." Responded Pickman. "Of course, naturally we wanted to find out exactly what is going on with your escape here."

"Of course," responded Integra. "It's good to know that there are still some people still loyal to our purpose. You'll understand that your ignorance regarding the current situation was planned for your own protection. The Round Table would insist on silencing anyone who knew what was truly going on."

"Well Sir Integra, what is going on?" Asked Seras.

"Great Britain is being targeted by this 'Millennium' Organization; that's all you know at the moment. However, Walter forwarded to me a letter from the Vatican with information indicating just how great this threat truly is; the Millennium Project details to be exact. This Millennium Project began in the 1940's as an attempt by Nazi scientists to create artificial vampires; sound familiar?"

"The freak-chip." Answered Pickman.

"Exactly. Walter and Alucard stopped them the first time around. However, they managed to escape to South America. They've been growing and experimenting since."

"Wait a minute!" Came the voice of one of the mercenaries. "You mean we're dealing with a bunch of fuckin Nazis!"

"I would have phrased it more eloquently; but yes, we are facing some particularly tenacious idiots. What's more; these recent attacks have been nothing but probes before an all-out invasion."

Pickman remembered the difficulty of dealing with the sixty-six man SAS unit that had been freak-chipped. "An entire army of vampires?" He questioned.

"Yes; and not your ordinary freak vampires at that. These monsters have been given time to adjust to their physical and mental enhancements. Their numbers are no laughing matter either. According to the Vatican report; there were just under one-thousand soldiers in the Nazi battalion that escaped here during the war."

"Why does the Vatican know so much about this operation?" Asked another mercenary.

"Because the Vatican moved them there in the first place." Shock ran through the group at the thought of the Catholic Church moving a group of Nazi war criminals. "It appears that several Vatican officials were tempted by the thought of immortality. They turned their backs on faith and God; providing resources to carry out the original experiments, and transportation to South America after the initial failure."

"But what about the Round Table?" Asked Pickman. "Why go over their heads on this?"

"I suspect that the Round Table has been tempted into joining the enemy. Although they give the appearance of keeping the situation in Great Britain under control; they have done much to sabotage our defenses. Firstly, they've apparently ignored the copy of the Vatican letter sent to them. Secondly, they've brought no pressure upon foreign governments to aid in their 'investigation'. Lastly, they went to so much effort to destroy the only answer to this problem: The Hellsing Organization."

"But they rebuilt the organization." Countered Pickman.

"To an extent they did. First they removed the old staff of the organization; placing me in prison over a flimsy excuse. They then placed a Hellsing veteran, you, in charge in order to give the appearance of progress and tradition. Finally, they expand the organization to the point where it can be brought under military command, likely replacing you at some point during the process."

"But who are they trying to fool?" Asked Pickman. "They run the country, don't they?"

"The Queen, of course. As well as the various military and government branches." Answered Integra. "The Round Table is simply working to contain the freak problem. A solution that makes them seem proactive, yet still allows for the Millennium Organization as whole to expand. As long as these enemies remain clothed in shadows, Great Britain as a whole cannot retaliate without the Round Table's consent."

"So you came here to expose them?" Asked Pickman.

"Yes. I refuse to allow the Round Table to destroy my country. I will defend Great Britain. Even if I must disobey the law to do so."

Pickman smiled. "Good to know sir," he said, acknowledging Integra as his leader. "There'll be a helicopter arriving at the roof shortly. We'll hold off any forces the police send at us; Alucard can take on the vampire Millennium sent over here."

Integra smiled bitterly. "Yes; the damage Alucard did earlier should be enough to lure that vampire into the open." She faced the group assembled before her. "Let's move. We'll regroup and attack Millennium later. With any luck Alucard will be able to get the information we need from the freak in charge of that police unit."

The group left the suite for the roof. Leaving Alucard alone to face Tubalcain Alhambra.

* * *

Tubalcain Alhambra was furious. It had been over fifteen minutes since the Hellsing group had entered the hotel. Something was amiss.

"Damn it!" He shouted, disturbing the subordinates around him. "The Hellsing group tricked us! They must be taking that woman's side. Looks like Islands misjudged that Pickman character."

He walked out of the tent, gathering a twenty-man team together. "The enemy has been reinforced," he said. "We can expect a fourteen man team as well as the three initial targets; I'll personally take care of the guy who killed those three teams from earlier. I'm expecting you guys to take care of the others."

"Yes sir!" Responded the soldiers, eager to take revenge for their comrades.

Alhambra walked calmly into the building, the officers behind him tense with anticipation.

* * *

A/N: The Hellsing crew is finally back together. Next chapter is the battle between Tubalcain and Alucard.

Again, reviews are welcome. Be they good or bad; just try to stay away from pointlessly malicious(I like to know what I do wrong though, so if it's a 20 page list of mistakes I've made or a legitimate complaint, I'd be fine with it).


	27. Chapter 25: Dance

Author's Note: Finally, the battle between Alucard and Tubalcaine Alhambra(damn, just when I realized that I loved writing his name I go and kill him off, next chapter though).

As for my updating. Things are on the fritz right now. I'm still working out my university schedule(we just started on Tuesday) in addition to learning how to fence in time for the team's tryouts on Monday(it's hell on the legs).

* * *

The elevator doors opened on the top floor. The police unit quickly rushed out, ignoring the corpses littering the hallway. The stair unit also reached their destination, sweeping the area for enemies before joining up with the main group. 

Tubalcaine Alhambra maintained a calm appearance as he walked past his subordinates; but on the inside, he reveled in the slaughter before him. The corpses littering the hallway were like a work of art to the Millennium vampire; a sign that his opponent would be especially dangerous.

Alhambra ordered his men aside as he approached the suite door; sensing Alucard on the other side. He opened the door quickly, expecting Alucard to try and ambush him. However, the vampire stood calmly in front of the large window overlooking the street.

Alhambra walked forwards, addressing Alucard. "So, you must be the mighty Alucard."

Alucard turned to face him. "And you are?"

Tubalcaine gave a bow, displaying his attire. "I am Tubalcaine Alhambra. My friends call me a 'Dandy Man'."

Alucard chuckled for moment. "To think that an incompetent like you has friends; obviously a misconception on your part. You are just a common goon to your masters, expendable and only as wanted as you are useful."

Alhambra face twisted into rage. "You seem to have me confused with those pathetic freak vampires." He reached into his sleeve, drawing a card from it. "I have much more skill, power, and value than those rejects."

Alucard smiled at the declaration. "Then I don't suppose you'd mind showing me? I may have all night, but that pathetic lot from earlier has left me impatient for a real challenge."

Alhambra turned around to face his confused subordinates. "Don't worry about what he said. Go upstairs, the others must be there." The officers, although confused by Alucard and Alhambra's conversation, were still willing to follow orders; they quickly abandoned the area.

Alhambra turned back towards Alucard. "Fine," he said. "Let's begin."

* * *

Pip had watched as Alhambra and the police unit moved into the hotel. Taking that as his signal, he quickly ran over to the command tent, dressed in the police uniform he had 'procured' from an officer who was now lying in the back of a news van with a bullet in his head. 

The men inside were having a fit. "What do you mean Tubalcaine is in a fight!" Shouted a police lieutenant. "If he dies, what happens to our deal!" The other police officials were similarly distracted.

Pip walked up to the men, face disguised by the uniform's gas mask. He pulled out a silenced M9 handgun; something that went unnoticed in the chaos. The officials didn't even have time to understand what was going on before Pip shot them all in rapid succession.

Pip checked for witnesses before pulling out a plastique explosive from his vest. He flipped the timer to twenty seconds and casually dropped it on the table. He snuck out of the tent, away from the gathered police and media forces. He only needed to secure a helicopter now and his mission would be complete.

* * *

An explosion from the street lit up the room as Tubalcaine and Alucard prepared for battle. Tubalcaine acted first, sending a cloud of cards flying up from his sleeves. The cards swirled around him before flying at Alucard. The cards then exploded a moment later, blasting Alucard out the window. 

Tubalcaine leapt out after Alucard, knowing that it would take more power than that to damage the vampire. The two landed outside the hotel, unaffected by the fall.

The media and police groups were shocked at the sight; media crews desperately snapping photos. Alucard quickly turned the media frenzy into a massacre; firing a shot at Tubalcaine which was dodged, hitting a cameraman instead.

Tubalcaine responded by rapidly throwing cards at Alucard. Alucard dodged them with relative ease; the occasional one grazing him. The two began to circle each other, sending projectile after projectile flying into the hotel and crowd behind them. The crowd became panicked with the inadvertent slaughter. Police and media crews quickly dashed out of the area, trampling anyone unlucky enough to have fallen or get injured.

Alucard's Jackal clicked, the clip empty. He reached into his coat for a new clip, only to discover that he was out. Alhambra paused to laugh at Alucard. "Ha! I guess those subordinates of mine at least did something right! You're nothing without your precious gun. The vampire Alucard is nothing!"

Alucard put down the Jackal, and instead raised his Casull at Alhambra. The dandy man was too slow to dodge the attack; half his face was destroyed by the silver round. His body still functioned however, dodging the next shots while a hail of cards swept over the destroyed facial area.

The cards cleared and Alucard's Casull clicked empty. Alhambra was revealed fully recovered. "Don't underestimate me!" He shouted, flinging a handful of cards into Alucard. The razor sharp projectiles sailed through the vampire's body.

Alucard looked down at the wounds, noticing that they refused to immediately heal. He started laughing at the sight.

"What's so funny?" Asked Alhambra, surprised at the reaction of his opponent.

"You were right! You aren't an ordinary opponent. To think that such fearsome fools such as yourselves still existed! It's the Major isn't it? 'The Last Battalion', 'Millennium' I'm glad to see that dying once hasn't taught you your lesson. After all, I'm beginning to enjoy this!"

"I'll send you back to Hell!" Tubalcaine launched into another offensive, firing a barrage of cards at Alucard. Alucard dodged to the side, allowing the cards to demolish a nearby two-floor apartment building. Alucard swiftly locked a new clip into his Casull, firing at the dodging Alhambra.

"That's right!" He shouted merrily. "Sing, dance, Alhambra," His voice lowered, "and scream like a pig!"

* * *

A/N: Like I said, updates are going to be on the fritz for a while, what with this being my last priority right now(no offense). Things will likely become routine within a few weeks though, so just hang in there(plus it's tough to get behind the manga events, copying is a tad boring so you can expect adaptations of course).  



	28. Chapter 26: Checking Out

Disclaimer: Despite my use of manga chapters in this story, Hellsing itself still does not belong to me and I have absolutely no intentions of profiting from it, nor will I.

Author's Note: Well, I can finally put the manga to rest for now with this chapter. After this I'll be moving into some original events. The general manga storyline will still be followed; I'll just be going alongside it rather than through it.

Lennox; don't worry about me running out of original ideas, there's a ton of stuff in addition to what you said that I'm planning to incorporate, especially the Round Table; I'm planning to work that in as a main conflict for Pickman to handle. The Brazil thing was sort of a fluke on my part; I include it as a chance to reunite the Hellsing cast and I get trapped in canon events. Thankfully I'll be staying away from that for a while, though I'll be intersecting the story with manga events numerous times in the future.

Zaisha; yeah, I just couldn't help but massacre those poor reporters. An indoor fight just really wouldn't have worked with the type of maneuverability that Tubalcaine works with, and the setup was already there for it.

Nythology; thanks for the persistent encouragement. I'm actually setting up a couple of fics right now. Though it's mostly in the drawing board work/research phases. Thus I'll probably start as soon as my fall schedule is sorted out.

* * *

Tubalcaine and Alucard's fight continued. The two vampires darted around the hotel area with superhuman speed, trying to catch one another at a disadvantage. Alucard had run out of ammo at this point, but still maintained a devastating close-range advantage over Alhambra; who was keeping his distance and relying on his seemingly infinite supply of cards. 

Alucard dodged an ace of hearts aimed for his head; dashing towards Alhambra only to have the Millennium vampire jump back and fire a barrage of cards. He took a quick step sideways to avoid the attack before charging Alhambra; repeating the process again.

Alhambra seemed satisfied with the current arrangement. Alucard would eventually run out of stamina, even if it took all night. Alucard, however, did not intend to repeat the same moves until he eventually lost. The Hellsing vampire took a quick look around, spotting a discarded MP5 amongst the bodies of police and reporters.

Alucard was a blur as he took off for the weapon, Tubalcaine tossing cards after him. Alucard scooped up the weapon as he passed it, arming it in his left hand. Alhambra took the split-second of slowing down as a chance to throw a full handful of razor sharp cards at him.

Alucard turned to face Alhambra; dashing towards him even as the cards approached. The projectiles sailed through Alucard's body, inflicting no real injury. Alucard continued at Alhambra, opening fire with the MP5 just as the dandy man was about to leap away.

The perfectly aimed sub-machine gun rounds tore into Alhmabra's body, punching tiny holes in the vampire. Alhambra however, was hardly slowed down by the attack, jumping away even as the bullet holes in his suit were repaired by the swirling cards around him.

Alucard decided on another approach, throwing the MP5 itself at Alhambra. The gun spun as it reached it's target, smacking Alhambra in the face just as he landed. The vampire was stunned momentarily as Alucard charged him, right hand reached out towards him.

The blow tore through Alhambra's left arm, the limb literally ripped apart from the force of Alucard's attack. The Millennium vampire however, was unwilling to let the fight end at this point; he jumped away from Alucard's finisher, once again placing distance between the two.

A flurry of cards settled where Tubalcaine's left arm had been, forming a protective shell around the wound. Alhambra launched another attack, firing card after card with his right hand at Alucard.

Alucard had given up the pretense of it being a fair fight between he and Alhambra. He walked casually through the hail of cards; the projectiles cutting through him with no sign of discomfort.

"Did you really think you could beat me with mere card tricks?" He asked Alhambra.

"Im-impossible," stuttered Alhambra, confidence shattered by Alucard's power. "No one could..."

"Oh, nothing is impossible." Said Alucard as he continued to walk towards Alhambra. "I'm simply better than you. I'm certain that there are much more powerful fools than you in your little Millennium club."

He grabbed Alhambra's remaining arm, bringing him close. "And I'm certain that your superiors would hate for me to have so much fun with you, when there are so much more amusing challenges to be confronted. In fact, that's where you come in 'Dandy Man'. You're going to help me..."

Alucard sunk his fangs into Alhambra's neck, draining the vampire's mind, body, and soul. Alhambra screamed for mercy, suddenly bursting into flames as his masters activated the remote incinerator feature on the vampire to prevent him from giving up any information. Alucard continued, unhindered by the flames. He finished as Alhambra blew apart into ash.

Alucard walked back towards the hotel, leaving only some scattered cards behind him.

* * *

Pickman waited at the hotel roof with the others. The police officers from downstairs were pounding on the door. He looked over at Seras who was perched on the roof's edge, watching the street below. "What's taking Pip and Alucard so long?" He asked. 

"Well, Alucard is on his way back here now." Seras had been observing the fight from the roof, yet had not intervened; she had too much respect for her former master, leaving him to his enjoyment. "Captain Bernadotte on the other hand; well, I haven't seen much of him since the police tent blew up."

Pickman turned back to the door, raising his Underdog at it. He fired a pair of shots; the heavy rounds tore through the wooden door like it was nothing, tearing into the police on the other side. The officers, realizing that they were outgunned and without backup, withdrew from the area after retrieving the two gunshot victims.

A military transport helicopter approached the hotel roof. It was a dual-rotor design used to transport troops and equipment. Pickman half-expected a squad of soldiers instead of Pip, holding a gun to the side of the pilot's head.

"How the hell did you get your hands on that?" Asked Pickman as they entered the transport chopper.

"It was actually pretty easy. Alucard was raising all kinds of hell over there. It was just a matter of catching this guy trying to escape after dropping a group of soldiers off." He nudged the pilot with his gun. "Let's get out of here."

They waited a moment as Alucard arrived before taking off. Once they were in the air, Integra looked over at Alucard. "What did he know?" She asked him.

"I guess we didn't attract enough attention." Answered Alucard. "The 'Dandy Man' was nothing but a subordinate. He didn't know much about Millennium, and he certainly didn't pose a challenge. What he knew does confirm Maxwell's information about the Nazis though, but he only knew about one Millennium base; an observation post nearby Rio de Janeiro. They probably just finished abandoning it as I killed Alhambra."

"Then we go back to England." Said Integra. "The Round Table is working with the enemy. If they refuse to reveal themselves here, we can force the information about them from our own traitors."

"How?" Asked one of the mercenaries. "We don't have a plane and this helicopter can't make the trip."

"There's a hidden Vatican airport in the area." She responded. "Maxwell offered us it's services in his letter. He seems desperate for us to take care of Millennium. There may be something going on in Rome that requires us to do his dirty work rather than his precious assassins."

"Whatever it is," said Pickman. "It'll have to wait for a time after we take care of the Round Table. We can't have a group of traitors running the country."

The helicopter disappeared into the night. Leaving a scene of carnage behind at the hotel.

* * *

A/N: Well, that takes care of Alhambra. I mostly just wanted to get out of the manga storyline. I'll probably do another Major interlude before moving onto the battle against the Round Table, followed by the destruction of London. 


	29. Chapter 28: Nostalgia

Author's Note: Yeah, doing two chapters in a single day. What can I say? It's great to have Mondays off school.

* * *

Ken Morgan, the most reputed sniper of the British Armed Forces, watched through his scope as the jet moved down the runway. He would be observing the ensuing meeting, intervening only if a conflict broke out. 

This wasn't his first time in a situation involving the Hellsing Organization. He had been hearing rumors about them for years; a special forces group that dealt with the most inhuman aspects of crime and terrorism. It was only about a month ago that he had finally been in a situation regarding them, and it was not a pleasant one.

The Hellsing Organization had attacked the Tower of London in an attempt to assassinate the Royal Family, or so he had been led to believe. The area around the tower took on the appearance of a war-zone. Explosions and gunfire echoing in the night.

British military forces were already engaged with the Hellsing terrorists inside the tower, yet they were not being reinforced. A single man was in a standoff with the military reinforcements. A Hellsing soldier standing outside of an APC was blocking the army unit. To his credit, based on his face and posture, the man was likely a senior officer of the organization; but his obstruction had to dealt with.

He had watched the soldier, Peter Fargason as he had later found out, stare down an entire military unit; forcing them to lay down their arms. A voice had come over his radio at that moment. "Take the shot." He had done so.

This time however, he hoped that the situation would be resolved peacefully. There had been something in the air that night. Something that had made things seem darker than they should be. It had haunted him for weeks and he hoped that the feeling would not return with this new Hellsing mission.

He watched as the plane rolled to a stop. Moments later, the staircase was brought up to allow for the passengers to disembark. The first man out of the plane was a tall man wearing a red coat and hat. His presence alone seemed to bring back Morgan's memories of the tower. _Damned paranoia_, he thought. _I'm letting this get the better of me_.

A pair of soldiers in Hellsing uniform and a butler followed. Morgan breathed a sigh of relief that their presence hadn't invoked any odd feelings from that night. He identified the next passenger as Sir Integra, the subject of the mission. His scope followed her down the stairs before shifting up to identify the next passenger to disembark.

* * *

Seras Victoria exited the plane. Sir Integra and the others had already disembarked and were waiting with the military escort on the tarmac. She looked up at the control tower in the distance where a sniper was watching her through his scope. She looked right back at him with her enhanced vision. For some strange reason the man backed away in shock at the sight of her. 

_Hey_, Seras thought. _My eyes aren't that freaky_. She brushed off the sniper's reaction and continued down the stairs.

Integra continued ahead, Alucard and Walter beside her; as well as a military escort surrounding them. An aide had radioed the plane as it began it's descent with the news that Integra had been pardoned. The leader of Hellsing acted like she couldn't care less about her status as traitor, but Seras could see the weight lifted from her shoulders.

The aide who had radioed them ran towards Integra. He moved alongside her and began to brief her on the current situation, including the Round Table Conference's excuses. Seras could pick up the conversation clearly despite the distance between her and Integra.

"Sir Integra," began the aide. "Sir Islands requested that I brief you on the situation."

Integra replied with a nod.

"Well sir, there is to be a conference to be held to discuss the current situation. Enrico Maxwell of the Vatican's Section XIII will be attending, as will Her Majesty. If you would like to lodge any complaints against Sir Islands and the Round Table, this conference would be an opportune forum for them to explain their actions. As well, the Queen and Sir Islands would both like some sort of explanation of your activities in Brazil, though the fact that there is some sort of unknown enemy is clear from your servant's duel against that Millennium vampire, Alhambra."

Integra had agreed with the aide. Slowing down to converse with him while Alucard and Walter moved on ahead to the vehicle awaiting them.

The aide paused for a moment. "Oh, Sir Integra, one more thing." He gave a quick look at Walter and Alucard and reached into his coat pocket.

"What is it?" Asked Integra, stopping to wait for him.

"Die." Said the aide, confidence replacing his nervous tone. He had pulled out a handgun from his pocket and was hastily aiming at Sir Integra. Seras rushed into action, knowing that Alucard, Walter, and herself were likely too far away to prevent a shot though.

A gunshot was heard. Seras pushed her way through the mercenaries only to see the aide falling to the ground, a bullet hole in his forehead. A second shot tore through the man's heart as he fell, jerking the body. The aide hit the ground, dead before he had even known that he had been hit.

The escorts quickly pushed Sir Integra into the waiting car and safety. Alucard and Walter were already inside. The vehicle sped off to the conference, away from any more potential assassins.

Seras looked over at the corpse. "Who was that?" She asked one of the escorts.

"Jason Wilson," replied the soldier. "I've known him for a while. Good kid though. I just can't imagine him trying something like this."

Seras took a moment to recognize the name. "Wait, did he have brother?"

"Yeah, an SAS member who had died recently during some mission against the IRA."

Seras knew who he was talking about though. Paul Wilson, a freak vampire that Seras herself had killed at the Tower of London. His brother must have learned the truth about his death and tried to kill Integra as revenge for the Hellsing 'terrorists' killing his brother.

"It was a good thing that Ken was keeping an eye on the situation." Remarked the soldier.

"Who?" Asked Seras.

"Ken Morgan, our top sniper. He just saved your boss' life." Replied the soldier.

Seras was suddenly reminded of Fargason, dying in the same manner as that aide had. She looked back at the control tower where the sniper had been; numerous pieces coming together. She could only feel hatred for one thing though.

_Why is Millennium doing this?_ She though. _Why would they manipulate people like this? Create conflict and grudges, death and tragedy. For what? Power? Immortality?_ Whatever their aim though, Seras was sure of one thing. _They need to be stopped, and soon_.

* * *

A/N: There, my second chapter today finished. I'll probably slow down during the week though. This is just a bit of compensation for that. I'll probably stick to one chapter every two or three days. Or I could catch the inspiration and free time to write ten more tonight. Whichever. 

Remember: There is not a single author that does not love reviews. Some people can't take bad reviews, but hey, I'm not one of them. So lay any praise, complaints, or comments on me.


	30. Chapter 27: Conspiring

Author's Note: Well, that pretty much ends the storyline copying for now. The manga events will proceed, just the circumstances will be different. I'm still planning to include the conference though.

It is true though, that I ditched the 'delivery-boy Anderson' scene. But hey, the Vatican is having it's own problems right now. Problems that may or may not be introduced after the battle for London.

* * *

The Major sat down, a monitor in front of him. The screen crackled to light as the video connection on the other end was secured. The face of Sir Islands appeared on the screen, visibly nervous after he had received the most recent reports from Brazil. 

"Sir, it's... well, the circumstances are a bit-" The Major cut him off with a hand gesture.

"Hellsing has escaped from our little trap." He said. "You failed to keep her imprisoned. Now she has escaped, and I've lost one of my lieutenants; in addition to the respect of Brazil's government."

"But sir, we tried to take care of it... we just didn't expect-" Islands was cut off again.

"You didn't expect a Hellsing unit to be loyal to their commander?" The Major said mockingly. "You have far too little faith in loyalty Islands, and now I have to switch back to my original plan."

"But sir! We can recapture her!" Islands was getting desperate at this point.

The Major waved his hand to cut that line of thought off. "No, no, it's too late for that. While she didn't encounter us directly, there is still too much evidence after that last scene to deny our existence to the Queen and to the government elements not under your control."

"But our deal!" Islands was now shouting.

The Major smiled. "Our deal is still on. You can take control of the country with our support. It will just have one less city."

Islands wasn't calmed in the least. "But that sort of impact-"

"-doesn't matter at all." The Major finished for him. "If anything, the devastation should ease the shift in power even more than a quick and organized coup. You benefit Islands, the population of London on the other hand; well that's a sacrifice you'll just have to make. Either that or you could deny our deal and fight us."

Islands shifted in his chair. "No, we won't fight you, and you are right. London will just have to be sacrificed to ensure the survival of this country."

The Major's smile brightened. "So good of you to see this our way. Besides, this war needs a battlefield, and a suitable opponent."

"Opponent?" Questioned Islands.

"Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing. She and her order of knights shall fight and die gloriously under the burning skies of London. It will be the symbol of this war and our triumph. For Hellsing has always been our only opponent. They are almost our counter-parts; a balance to our actions."

"But the Hellsing Organization has been crushed. Unless you want those troops we've been-" Islands was once again cut off.

"No," said the Major. "The Hellsing Organization remains undiminished. For a Hellsing controlling the might of Alucard is the only thing that they have ever required. As long as Integra's spirit remains strong, so does their organization. Crushing her will is the objective of this battle. The death and destruction of London will be a mere pleasant side-effect. I trust you will give her free reign when she returns of course?"

"Yes sir," responded Islands. The Major ended the transmission moments later.

_Fool_, he thought, disgusted by Sir Islands' lack of pride. _If I had wanted Hellsing destroyed, I would have just had Integra killed after the battle at the Tower of London. Everything is playing out exactly as I have written it. London will burn in the fires of war. So will the rest of the world. We shall engulf all of humanity in a brutal struggle for survival! Win or lose, that won't matter compared to the mark of eternal war forged upon this pathetic world_.

The Major laughed; the sound echoing through the halls of the base. The Colonel and other senior(literally) Nazi officials would be disturbed by the noise, but the Major didn't care. That group of defeatists would be settled long before his grand assault on London would be put into action.

* * *

Sir Islands watched as the screen darkened. His fist took a few moments to stop shaking though. He looked around the room, paranoid of any observers to his treason. 

_That fool Major_, he thought. _He thinks that I care about what happens to London? Nonsense. But I do hate acting like a subservient dog to that madman. Not that it matters. I'll let the Major and Hellsing have their fun; and while they're both weak and tired from fighting I'll take them both by surprise and win everything. He is right though. An invasion of his intensity will be enough of a distraction for me to wipe out the Royal Family and take full control of the country. That idiot Major just won't be around to see it_.

An aide knocked on the door, requesting entrance. "Come in." Said Islands.

"Sir," the aide said. "Lord Breen asked me to convey a message from MI-5 to you. They have received word from Millennium. Apparently the group has captured one of our Aircraft Carriers. The Eagle to be exact. The crew is being held hostage."

"What do they want?" Asked Islands, knowing the answer already.

"They demand that Sir Integra be granted a full pardon. They apparently say that they want to confront her as a knight of Her Majesty, not a disgraced traitor. They also demand that we include her in the coming conference regarding the current situation."

Islands looked at the aide. _They're being rather direct_, he thought. _It seems that the Major is truly obsessed with renewing his original plan of blood-shed_. He was almost amused by the persistence of the insane Nazi.

"Very well," he answered. "She's innocent of any wrong-doing anyways. You can give her the message when her plane arrives. It would be much more peaceful than her having Alucard fight his way through the airport to clear her a path."

"Yes sir." The aide ran off to carry out the order.

Islands turned to back to the blank monitor. _This will certainly be an interesting conference_. He thought.

* * *

A/N: Well, the Conference will certainly be different this time around, with traitors hosting it and all. There is also the fact that Integra has a good idea that the Round Table is betraying them. You may also notice that I'm sort of replacing Maxwell with Islands for the future war. But it will certainly be carried out differently. 

Well, like most any author, I appreciate any form of feedback. Be it positive or negative.


	31. Chapter 29: Conference

Author's Note: Yeah, you can expect Monday to be my big update day from now on. Most of the week will remain on the 'one chapter every couple of days or whenever Victor feels like writing' schedule. Tuesdays and Fridays will likely be out though, on account of my body having collapsed after long days of school followed by fencing and train rides.

Well, this is the final manga chapter that I'll be going with. As usual I tossed a twist on it to make it fit the story, but it was still boring as heck to write(thus the wait). That and Final Fantasy Advent Children has been consuming my mind this week with it's... well nevermind that.

* * *

The car pulled in front of the Royal Villa located outside of London. Integra's resolve was not shaken by the earlier assassination attempt. The fact that the British military had intervened was enough to tell her that it was a personal grudge, not a Round Table order, that had led Jason Wilson to attack her.

_Still though_, she thought. _I cannot confront the Round Table without evidence of their betrayal. As much as I hate to play their game, my ability to defend this country depends on it_.

Integra stepped out of the vehicle; Walter closing the door behind her. Alucard was much closer beside her this time around. She figured that the elder vampire's pride had been shaken at allowing a potential assassin so close without being able to read his intent; although Wilson's nervous mannerisms and thoughts seemed to have been aimed at throwing off Integra's servant.

She walked into the conference room, taking her rightful place at the head of the table. As a Hellsing, this current situation fell within her jurisdiction; placing her in charge of the conference. Walter, Pickman, Pip, and Seras took seats nearby her.

The Round Table knights were already seated. Integra scanned their faces for guilt, or any evidence of nervousness; some indication of their suspected betrayal. Islands was calm as usual. Penwood on the other hand, had paled considerably over the past few weeks and appeared to be a nervous wreck. A curtain hid the Queen from view, as she was to be an observer alone.

Enrico Maxwell was another guest of the conference, having flown into London earlier in the morning. A relatively unimposing Heinkel stood by the bishop's side; her being the most mentally stable elite Iscariot. He was another person who appeared to be on the edge. Although his calm demeanor said otherwise, Integra noticed that his hair was lacking it's usual shine, and that his clothes were slightly more worn out. There was even a report that Integra had received indicating that Maxwell had entered the country via a commercial flight, not a Vatican jet.

Her attention was drawn to Alucard, him having just finished a brief conversation with the Queen. The vampire stepped back from Her Majesty and took his place behind Integra. She held up her hand, signaling a stop to the numerous discussions throughout the room.

"If everyone is here; I would like to begin." Said Integra.

Sir Breen shook his head. Looking over at his compatriots in the Round Table he muttered. "First day back and she's already ordering us around as if she had never been removed and dishonored."

Whether Integra had heard the remark or not was unknown, as she began to speak once the chatter had finished dying down. "As you all know, we've been experiencing an increase of vampiric activity throughout Europe as of late. Be it here in England, or," she gave a gesture towards Maxwell. "In Rome. These vampires have been artificially created by the Millennium Organization. Recently Alucard... inherited some information about this group. Thus, I shall hand the subject over to him."

Alucard stood before the assembled conference. "Once upon a time," he began, patronizing the assembled officials. "There was an insane SS Major. He wanted to create an army of immortals. Troops of vampires. This thought became reality thanks to bloodshed and insanity."

"The Millennium Project." Noted Integra.

"Correct. But the project ended in failure thanks to Walter and I. Or so everyone thought. In reality they retreated to the shadows, where they have been slowly growing since. Now they've come close to perfecting the vampire; having mastered the freak-chip and deployed their servants and creations into preliminary conflict in order to test their results."

A curious voice broke in. "Nice... did Tubalcaine's blood tell you all that?" A younger vampire had appeared from nowhere. He was dressed in a Hitler Youth uniform, and had cat ears; evidently a Millennium creation.

In a flash Heinkel, Pip, Pickman and Seras had leveled weapons at the Millennium envoy. He held up his hands, "I'm not here to fight. I'm a special envoy, here to bring you a message."

"Special envoy?" Spat Integra. "How did you get in here? Penwood?"

The knight shook his head. "There's no sign of our defenses having been breached. I'll check with the perimeter guards."

The Millennium vampire just shook his head in response. "Don't bother. I am everywhere, and nowhere." He pulled out a portable screen with a two way camera connection and set it up on the table. "We had arranged this so that our commander could speak to you in-person. After all, it was pretty rude of you not to invite us to this fancy conference."

The screen crackled for a moment, a voice beginning to play from the speakers. "Warrant Officer Schrodinger, I'm not getting visual here. This really is no good at all." The screen began to clear up, revealing the darkened figure of a man sitting in a chair. "Ah, that's much better." The figure turned away from the camera for a moment. "Hurry up and dispose of them!" He shouted at some unseen observers.

The camera turned away from the figure, towards the scene of a massacre. Numerous bloody corpses covered the floor. The victims were dressed in the uniforms of senior Nazi officials.

"What the hell are you doing?" Asked Sir Islands.

The figure's voice came from off-screen to answer him. "We're disposing of some worthless, old, defeatists."

Laughter interrupted the figure. All eyes in the conference room turned towards Alucard, who was ecstatic at the sight of the figure. "Major Montana Max." Alucard spoke as if confirming the identity of an old friend. "It's been far too long."

The screen shifted back to the Major. "Ah, Alucard. I knew that we'd meet again someday. After all, it was only a matter of time; something us immortals have in abundance."

"I had a feeling that you were still around." Remarked Alucard. "But I never thought that you would have made so much progress on such a worthless venture. After all; your pitiful imitations never could stand up to the real thing, no matter how numerous their pathetic kind is."

"Fair enough," replied the Major. "But we will just keep throwing new fuel on the fire; ever expanding and improving our forces. No matter how many times we are vanquished, we always return. After all, tenacity is the quality we hold most in regard. We will discard worthless results again and again in our search for perfection."

Integra cut in at this point. "But for what purpose?" She asked. "Why go to such lengths?"

The Major laughed at the question, glasses illuminated by the camera's reflection.. "Purpose?" He said mockingly. "That frauleine, is known as a foolish question. We have no purpose. We've exchanged purpose for power. War is the only aspect of existence which we can still cling to. War is our gift to you, Sir Hellsing. A defining battle that your family has prepared for since the dawn of your organization."

Maxwell's voice interrupted the Major's speech. "You bastards have lost it."

"You're one to talk, 'head' of the Vatican's Thirteenth Chapter. You're a pitiful opponent. In your rush to create weapons to defeat us, you've created enough foes to keep you out of this coming battle." Maxwell lowered his head at the reprimand, the knowledge of his current problems remaining between he and the Major.

"Maxwell, what is he talking about?" Asked Integra, curious to know her rival's predicament.

"It's nothing we can't handle." The bishop replied confidently. "I look at these monsters as much more of a threat."

"Such a pathetic lie..." Came the Major's taunting voice. "This idiot thought that Iscariot had finally mastered the technology behind their paladins' vaunted regeneration abilities. Over the last few weeks he's manufactured about a thousand regenerators out of the best knights of various religious orders. I appreciate his plan; creating an army of regenerators to fight my army of vampires. It would have been a grand conflict indeed. Did you hope to create Judgment Day Maxwell? Or perhaps Ragnarok? The mythical final battle of immortals."

Maxwell looked away from the screen, disgust and shame showing on his face.

"Well, regardless of what he had planned," continued the Major. "It backfired on him. Somewhere along the line, the Vatican scientists had taken the loyalty of their men for granted. They failed to take into account the mental changes created by the regenerator process. How could they when their test subject had been a corpse? All of the subjects have rebelled over the past few days. Vatican City has closed it's gates to contain the in-fighting, although the explosions are a sure tip-off to the outside world. You've neutralized yourself, boy. Your grand Ninth Crusade has fizzled out before leaving the gates of Rome, a new record of futility for a future crusade to surpass."

Integra was torn between pleasure at Maxwell's loss of stature, and annoyance at the bishop's inability to aid England in the coming battle. She decided it was time to end this foolish facade of war that the Major was trying to create.

"War?" She said to the Major. "You want to go to war with us? Don't make me laugh. You are nothing but a pack of terrorists; worse even, as you've lowered yourselves below even the lowest of men. We refuse to acknowledge your existence. We will simply do our jobs and dispose of you like the filth you truly are."

"Excellent," the Major replied. "It's so good to know that you haven't changed as a result of your captivity; it reflects well upon you. I can also see why Alucard would be willing to follow you. Very well! It's war then, regardless of your opinion. I don't see the need to speak with you any further on this matter. Let our actions on the battlefield convey any future messages."

"Fire." Ordered Integra. The Hellsing group opened fire on Schrodinger, punching dozens of holes through the Millennium vampire with handguns before Alucard finished him off with a well aimed Casull round. Seras followed up by shooting the monitor that the Major had been communicating over.

The Queen observed from behind her curtain. She raised a hand to get the attention of the conference. "Sir Integra, Alucard," she addressed. "I have but one order for you: Defeat them."

Integra and Alucard bowed, ready to carry out Her Majesty's will.

* * *

A/N: Well, please review. Though I have to admit, it's awesome to have you guys around.  



	32. Chapter 30: Redemption

Author's Note: Ah yes, the conference is over. This means we're hitting about volume 5 now.

In a bit of a twist I'm going to be looking at the Iscariots in this chapter. Maybe look into how Maxwell's doing with his precious crusade having backfired. Remember though, Maxwell's never even gotten his shot at victory before everything went wrong. He's pretty on-the-edge, so I'm hoping I can still keep in-character.

* * *

Enrico Maxwell stood in the apartment hallway, Heinkel waiting behind him. He knocked on the door to the room where Alexander Anderson was staying. The paladin of Iscariot promptly allowed the Bishop inside. Maxwell entered, leaving Heinkel outside to guard the door.

"What brings you here?" Alexander asked Maxwell. "I would have thought you would have retreated back to the Vatican. Or rather, a safer place than that. Father Renaldo cannot run Iscariot in your absence for you forever."

Maxwell shook his head. "I needed to see you Father Anderson. I... I failed in my duties as Chief of Section XIII..."

"It doesn't surprise me." Responded Anderson.

Maxwell reacted in shock. "What?"

"Enrico. I raised you at the orphanage, and thus I am partially responsible for the situation you've caused. You've always had a horrible flaw Enrico: Pride. And it blinded you to it's own existence."

"Is it wrong to be proud of what you do?" Asked Maxwell.

"No. Taking pride in your service to the Lord is nothing to be ashamed of. You however, took pride in your position. You took pride in the power you had over others. This pride is responsible for what you have done as of late."

"It's true, isn't it?" Maxwell's faith had been shaken by his failure, and his pride had been crushed. "But what about God?"

"You always believed in God." Anderson said. "I encouraged this, but it became a crutch for you. You became far too ambitious. You looked at God as a parent, and strove for His approval by fighting His enemies. You forgot that it is our duty to be God's tools, not his proxies. The Crusades, which you tried so hard to emulate, failed because of people like you. People who forsook their duty to defend Christendom, choosing to attack the Saracens instead. It was your aggressive rush that led to this. You never concentrated on the threat this Millennium Organization posed, or the threat that the abuse of regeneration technology could pose. Instead, you only looked at how to increase the power of the church through conquest, admirably intended, but foolish."

"So is that it?" Asked Maxwell desperately. "Is that the end of me? Of Iscariot?"

"No," responded Anderson. "I ask of thee Iscariot, what is it thou hast clutched in thy right hand?"

"My dagger has been blunted." Responded Maxwell bitterly. "My poison has been diluted."

"Then Iscariot, I ask of thee, what doth thou grasp firmly in thy left hand?"

"I have cast my 30 pieces of silver onto the Alter." Maxwell continued. "I can only just hang onto my halter."

"Then let go Father Maxwell." Advised Anderson. "These threats we face; they cannot be solved with daggers and poisons. The time will come and come again, when those tools are required to protect the interests of God and The Church, but not today. We must take up sword and cross to defeat the menaces we face. For they are in the open, so must we. Maxwell, you must take pride as a servant of God, not as the representative of His will."

"Thank you Father Anderson..." Responded Maxwell. "I think I know what I must do."

"Shall I accompany you back to Rome?" Asked Anderson.

"No," responded Maxwell. "The world of Iscariot is no longer mine to interfere with. I must atone for my foolishness without your aid. After all, you are needed here. The true battle will occur in London. The crisis that engulfs the Vatican cannot tear our eyes away from this. I want you to be here, to shed the role of assassin and become a true Knight of the Church when the situation finally demands it."

"I wish you luck then Maxwell," said Anderson. "May God watch over you as you finally realize his will. I will fight here, unburdened, because of what I know you will be accomplishing elsewhere."

Maxwell reached into his coat. "Before I leave, there is something I need to give you." He pulled out a large, rectangular package. "I received it from Section III before I left. You can guess what it is."

"The 'Nail'?" Inquired Anderson.

"Yes, and you are authorized to use it. But you know the consequences of such power. I suggest that it be left as a last resort. After all, I'm certain that you can defeat both Millennium, and that abomination Alucard, without it's aid. God created us with will for a reason. We can't allow circumstances, no matter how terrible, to divert us from our purpose. I understand that now."

"Go with God, Enrico." Responded Anderson. "And rest assured that I will not allow this battle to end in defeat, one way or another." He glanced at the package.

Maxwell took his leave, having a plane to catch back to Rome. Heinkel knocked on Anderson's door a moment later.

"Father Anderson?" She asked. "What was that about?"

"Enrico was a difficult child to raise." He responded. "He still is, in fact. All I can do now is wait, and see on how he acts on my advice."

Yumiko walked in behind Heinkel. "The Chief can do anything." She said confidently, having overheard Anderson's comment.

Anderson chuckled for a moment. "I certainly hope so. You know, he's different around you two. It changes him, for the better. I just hope that he realizes just what dedication he has earned, not through power, but through his own personality. It may just be enough to lead him to his own salvation."

* * *

A/N: A short, Iscariot centric, chapter. Yeah, I'm trying to redeem Maxwell here. As much as I dislike him in the manga/anime, I figure I can turn his character around a bit through some good old trauma followed by a decent conversation with the guy who raised him. After all, manga Maxwell never got a chance to see the error of his ways(or at least, he didn't live through it). So I figure it would be good to knock him down a few pegs before raising Iscariot back up.

Yeah, this being my day off and all, I'll be doing some more updating today, so keep an eye out! And review please(if you couldn't tell by the ranting above, I'm not very certain how well I did with this chapter. Messing around with canon characters is a messy business).


	33. Chapter 31: Time

Author's Note: Seeing as how I wrote the last chapter earlier today, there's not much in the way of explanation to do. Maxwell is now out of the picture, but Anderson's paladin team is still in London. Now to move onto the others, in a final chapter before the invasion begins.

Yeah, events this afternoon halted the update time a bit. So I can respond to reviewers!

I hope I did decently with the Anderson/Maxwell talk. As for his usual bloodthirstiness, Anderson doesn't react positively to Maxwell's crusade in the manga(the whole acting on God's behalf thing). He's not opposed to violence; he's just opposed to Maxwell acting as judge, jury, and executioner. He had forgotten that he was but a tool of God, a murder weapon, not a murderer(late volume 7). But yeah, it's definitely understandable to be confused about that. I was when I first read it(I'm still wondering if it was a translation error).

And yeah, based on manga events, it's horribly ironic for Anderson to set Maxwell straight. Although, seeing as how Maxwell had yet to arouse Anderson's ire, and Anderson wasn't in 'combat-mode'.

* * *

Pickman followed Integra, Walter, and Alucard down the military base's corridor. A communiqué from Millennium had been issued from the H.M.S._ Eagle_. The vampires aboard had just executed the human crewmen remaining on the ship. As well, the traitors onboard who had allowed for the takeover to occur in the first place had been executed as well.

Integra had called it, "clearing the first battlefield of obstacles". It was evident that the battle for the _Eagle_ would be a gauging of power between the Hellsing and Millennium organizations.

The command staff of the base was in panic-mode. Papers were scattered around the command center, and there was not a single piece of unoccupied communications equipment. A clearly overworked lieutenant ran up to Integra.

"Sir Hellsing!" He addressed. "Commander Penwood has left you in charge of the _Eagle _situation. Also, Sir Islands has drafted a plan of action for recapturing the ship." The aid presented her with a written draft.

"Really," Responded Integra, sarcasm dripping from her tone as she took the paper. "Well I'm certain that he has our best interest in mind." She took a few moments reading it over.

"Send Alucard?" She shouted. "This is nonsense! Alucard is needed here. Why can't we use regular troops to handle this! A ship full of vampires can't take on a squadron of Harriers! Or even a few helicopters full of troops should stand a decent chance! I will not throw away our trump card on a preliminary bout!"

"But Sir Hellsing!" Replied the lieutenant. "That's the problem. We can't get anything over there. There's some vampire on the deck who keeps shooting down any aircraft we send at it; some kind of magic bullet nonsense. Your vampire is the only real solution to the problem. We've already prepared a plane for him."

"This changes everything." Said Integra. "The vampire aboard the _Eagle_, based on your observations, is likely one of their top officers. This will be an excellent opportunity for Alucard to learn the enemy's plans." _I suppose that Sir Islands is still acting on our side for now_, she thought. _Or perhaps he's finally figured out how stupid it was to ally with such a madman as that Major_.

Integra walked away with the lieutenant to discuss the preparations for Alucard's mission. Pickman was about to follow when an aide interrupted him.

"Commander Pickman?" He confirmed. "Sir Islands would like to speak to you."

Pickman nodded, following the aide outside to his car.

Break

Sir Islands and the other Round Table Conference members waited in the newly restored Tower of London. The building had been rebuilt into a true modern fortress after the Incognito attack. Armed guards were now posted along the perimeter, and a pair of Surface to Air Missile launchers designed for fighter and warhead interception had been constructed on the roof of the tower.

Pickman was led across the grounds, a feeling of dark-nostalgia coming over him after his experiences fighting the freak SAS team. The aide finally led Pickman to the inner keep, where the conference room had been set up.

"Glad you could join us." Said Sir Islands.

"If it's about the last mission-" Pickman was cut off as Islands continued.

"There is no cause to worry about it." He said. "We asked you to return Sir Hellsing, and you did. Your chosen method also gained us information regarding the Millennium Organization; something a shoot-out with Alucard would never have brought about."

"Then why have you called me here?" Pickman asked, noticing the considerably paled Penwood sitting nearby Islands.

"We want you to lead a Hellsing mercenary team in eliminating a number of freak vampires within the military." Islands ordered. "It's rather shameful to admit that many of the monsters are located within my own staff. No doubt they were placed to interfere with our treatment of Sir Hellsing and Millennium evidence."

"Right sir," responded Pickman. "I'll get right on it."

He pulled out a cell phone, dialing the Hellsing headquarters for a squad of Wild Geese to meet him at the first target. Pickman walked out of the room, knowing full well that Islands was playing him for a fool, and intending to get some answers from these freak staff members.

Islands smiled as Pickman left the room. He turned towards his compatriots, his voice taking a gloating tone. "That foolish subordinate." He said. "Soon we'll be rid of the Major's checks on our power. Then we can launch an attack of our own." He unrolled a map of England, pointing at a circled London, and the icons representing the thousand military-trained Hellsing soldiers, and a full military regiment, waiting just north of the soon-to-be-besieged city.

"There's only one thing we don't know." Mused Islands. "When will the Major make his move? We are prepared for tonight, but I would rather he held off until we could completely remove his influences from our ground forces; we can't touch his RAF traitors though. After all, we all know he won't attack if we take action against the traitors in the air-force. No use having those fancy zeppelins shot down by British fighters. The Major will find London lying open for the taking. And when he sets down and begins, we will crush him, and the surviving political structure of this country, to pieces."

The Round Table Members clapped in approval. All except Penwood that is, for he was simply staring forwards blankly; praying that he was trapped in a nightmare, not such a mixed up reality.

* * *

It was past sunset when the ten-man Hellsing unit smashed into the home of Island's secretary, the final member of Sir Islands' staff to be targeted. Pickman led the team, Underdog ready. He kicked in the bedroom door, only to find the secretary waiting on the bed, a gleeful look in his eyes.

"Freeze!" Shouted Pickman, as the Hellsing unit spread across the room. He was hoping to at least interrogate this freak before shooting it. The other staff members had put up a fight, forcing their extermination. This one seemed different.

"Oh?" Said the secretary, amused at the Hellsing team's antics. "What are you doing out this late? Shouldn't you be at home praying for salvation? Or running from this city?"

"What are you talking about?" Pickman asked.

"Oh right!" The secretary shouted in amusement. "You don't know, do you? Well, I just heard myself... You know... I really do love this city. If I had known what 'they' would do..."

"What are you talking about?" Pickman repeated, slower.

"Heh... They just told me to assassinate Sir Islands. I've got no problem with it, but London... Such a shame... I was looking forward to spending at least part of eternity here..."

"What is Millennium planning?" Asked Pickman.

The freak vampire was too much in shock to debate the consequences of betrayal. "They're coming." He said, in awe. "Tonight. They wanted me and the other staff members to kill Islands so that he won't betray us. But it doesn't matter. He can't stop what will happen, no one can. They showed me!"

Pickman raised his weapon and fired. The freak secretary didn't even bother to scream or dodge, simply falling to the ground in a pile of dust. He quickly turned on his radio. "Attention all forces. The enemy attack is tonight! Put everyone on immediate alert!" Only static answered him.

One of the mercenaries pointed to the room's window. "Too late sir." He said simply. Pickman looked out the window, seeing the a shadow begin to blot out the moon.

"What the hell is that?" He wondered.

The shape became clearer as it approached London, blocking out more of the moon as it went, creating a small eclipse over the city.

"A zeppelin?" He asked.

"Certainly looks like one sir." Responded the mercenary.

"And Alucard isn't here!" Pickman shouted, suddenly remembering the vampire's mission. "The _Eagle _was a lure to get him away from here, and onto a floating barrier!"

Whatever the plan of Millennium was, it was clear that they had ensnared London quite handily.

* * *

A/N: Finally! The invasion of London commences! Mind you, I'm gonna try to stretch this for all it's worth(and I never quite got around to fixing up the Pip and Seras romance. Mind you, I'm no romance writer, so we're all better off).

Well, as usual, review.


	34. Chapter 32: Bombing

Author's Note: Yeah, I did notice that I was going a bit fast. But hey, it's good to toss Pickman back into the spotlight, and even better to finally enter the battle for London. And yes, there is of course Penwood... I've been writing him this way for a reason. One that may become evident as the battle progresses(though we all remember his actions in the manga).

* * *

Pickman ran out onto the street, only to stare on in horror as the gigantic zeppelin approached the skies over London. Two smaller zeppelins could be seen traveling alongside the larger craft. Old air-raid sirens began to sound throughout the city as the zeppelins approached, shaking the numerous civilians that had thought the large craft to be nothing more than an advertising or movie stunt. 

The zeppelins soared across the sky, moving at speeds that would have fried their engines were it not such a short trip to their destination. The largest zeppelin slowed to a stop, hovering just west of the Themes while the others took up different positions across the city.

A single streak of light could be seen flying from the main zeppelin, the _Hindenburg_ _II_, moving at a rapid speed towards the city below. An explosion followed moments later.

_Missiles?_ Thought Pickman. _If they were going to bomb us, why use zeppelins? A bomber squadron would be more than enough to level most of London. And for that matter, why isn't the Royal Air Force moving to intercept_?

Following the first strike, dozens of rockets were fired from the trio of Zeppelins. Destruction rained down upon the city of London, killing thousands of civilians and destroying entire city-blocks. The explosions spared nothing, wiping out houses and monuments alike.

A nearby explosion lit up Pickman's vision, tossing him and the mercenaries to the ground from shock. Pickman looked to his left, seeing a pile of rubble a block or two down where there had formerly been homes.

He quickly rose to his feet, seeing plumes of smoke rising around him in every direction. Moments later, the zeppelins above the city began to descend. Pickman took a moment to run over to the APC and fetch a pair of binoculars. He could guess what the next stage of Millennium's plan was though.

The binocular enhanced vision confirmed Pickman's fears moments later, when the lower hatches of the zeppelins opened up and began dropping a much more deadly cargo than rockets upon the city.

_Vampires_, thought Pickman, still in shock at the impossibility of the attack. _There must be dozens dropping down. And this is likely only an advance force! The entire Nazi force must be aboard those flying monsters_!

"It's impossible to deny now." He said, calmness prevailing over panic. "The Round Table has betrayed us all. There's no way this could have happened without a legion of traitors within our ranks, and it would be impossible for so many traitors to exist without the Round Table's notice..."

The mercenaries nodded, waiting for orders.

"We have to get back to the base where Sir Integra is." Pickman continued. "She'll likely be the first target of the attack. There appears to be enemy units dropping down on the city. We'll have to proceed quickly before they can rally and attack."

He ran back over to the APC, informing the driver of their destination and circumstances. The troops piled in, and the APC took off down the burning streets of London; mere moments ahead of the Nazi landing teams.

* * *

The Major looked out through the observation window, marveling in the destruction below. A call came from the communications officer.

"We've located Integra Hellsing!" He cried, the sound easily carrying over the buzz of activity on the bridge.

"Good," replied the Major. "Send the Edelheit regiment to intercept her. Captain, launch the warship as a vanguard."

The another officer shouted out. "Zorin Blitz has taken the _Graf Zeppelin II_ and the troops under her, and has launched a sortie on Hellsing HQ!"

"Tell her to hold off on the attack for now." Ordered the Major. "Seras Victoria is located at Hellsing HQ. And from what we've seen of her in the past, she could easily swat aside Zorin and her illusions."

He turned towards the weapons chief, who was grinning broadly after getting the chance to bomb London again after over 55 years of waiting.

"How many modified V1s do we have left?" He asked.

"Nine," replied the weapons chief. "Shall I launch them?"

"Yes," said the Major. "At Hellsing HQ. We'll evaluate the strength of our enemies before sending Zorin's unit after them. In the meantime, we have a city to destroy and a few objectives to meet."

"Objectives?" Inquired the chief.

"Yes," the Major replied, grinning. "Integra Hellsing for one, her annoying butler for another, and a most unexpected third."

"Who?"

"The commander of the organization's forces, Chris Pickman. According to our spies, he was apparently the one to bind Seras Victoria. If we kill him, she'll likely abandon the Hellsing Organization. She may even come over to our side. It's worth a shot at least, before we send in Zorin and her forces. He's still in the city, so we'll label him a secondary target after the Hellsing woman."

The weapons officer quickly input the coordinates of the Hellsing HQ, rocket fire shaking the airship, while the Captain disembarked from the Zeppelin to capture the organization's leader, and settle an old score.

* * *

The APC sped through the streets of London, avoiding the flaming wreckage littering the streets. Dead bodies littered the sidewalks, either victims of the V1 rocket attacks, or of the Nazi landing teams. Yet the APC managed to make it's way towards the military base where the _Eagle_ situation had been monitored without encountering the enemy, taking an extra twenty minutes to navigate through side-streets in order to avoid the nightmarish main-streets. 

Corpses were piled in front of the base. A large number of citizens had already been converted into ghouls, and their bodies, along with those of numerous soldiers, occupied the street.

The APC came to a stop, the driver hesitant to roll his way through a driveway of bodies. Pickman and the others disembarked, walking hastily towards the entrance. Pickman paused, taking a look at the corpse of a Nazi soldier lying amidst the bodies of the military. The body had been riddled with bullets, finished off by a face-destroying head shot, and nearby tire marks indicated that someone had already driven away from the area.

The likelihood of Integra remaining in the base was low, but it was still worth checking, as the jamming of radio transmissions and all other wireless communications prevented them from simply calling her. The team moved forwards, the driver of the APC abandoning his vehicle to join them rather than be left alone in the rapidly deteriorating city.

* * *

A/N: So, the invasion of London has commenced(I'll be renaming it Midian shortly at this rate). Plus I managed to work in a Major/Pickman conflict, which may go somewhere. As for the Vatican, I'm thinking of either continuing the story to cover that later, or just sequeling it; depends on how things end up going in London. 


	35. Chapter 33: Pursuit

Author's Note: The assault on London is underway. Pickman and his unit are trying to beat the Nazi forces to Integra, while unwittingly becoming targets in the process.

Lennox! That's the second time you've caught me make that same mistake. Still, it's always good to know when I make a mistake. So yeah, I'll up the vigilance now that I know the first time I did that wasn't a fluke.

Magtec, thanks for the review. It's great to see some unfamiliar faces reviewing. You are right though, some more Alucard can never hurt. But his entrance into the final battle has yet to come(but what an entrance it is).

Zaisha, I don't want to kill Pickman! I really don't! But, but... Gah!(I'm still in the process of deciding whether or not to kill him in the end. I figure it'll come down to either reviewer opinion, or coin toss. Good old coin tosses, have yet to resort to using one.)

Nythology, I always appreciate the encouragement! Groundwork is a fundamental, and it's a nice break between action scenes.

* * *

Pickman walked down the main hallway of the base. Corpses littered the floor, Nazi vampires and British soldiers alike. Pickman held up his Underdog with his right hand, keeping his Glock in his left hand. He fired shots from the Glock into the heads of the corpses as he passed them, having too little time to give them even a prayer before ensuring their eternal rest. 

Gunfire could be heard nearby as Pickman approached the command center. He put away his Glock, raising the Underdog Assault Handgun with both hands. He poked his head around the corner only to see a Letztes Battalion unit engaged with the military survivors. Both sides fought from behind make-shift barricades. The vampire forces were keeping the aggressive edge in the battle by forcing the military units to remain behind cover with their superior durability and accuracy.

Pickman signaled for the rest of his unit to approach and made a gesture towards the grenades he was carrying, the motion not being picked up by the vampires due to the distraction of battle. A trio of grenades flew around the corner, bouncing off the wall and landing towards the rear of the Millennium force. The resulting explosions, although they were able to avoid them for the most part, scattered the Millennium vampires and ceased their attack on the barricade.

Pickman popped out of cover, Underdog raised, firing a shot straight through the surprised face of the black-uniformed officer commanding the enemy unit. The mercenaries strafed out of cover, firing their MP5s with deadly precision at the surprised vampires. The rapid-fire, in addition to causing some damage to the durable vampires, prevented them from noticing Pickman as he fired the much more powerful Underdog. The weaker suppressing fire, in combination with the heavier Underdog fire, quickly mowed down the vampire unit before they had a chance to counter-attack.

Pickman stepped forwards from his position, moving towards the barricade. A British soldier verified his identity and allowed Pickman and the mercenary team entry to the command center without hassle. After all, the soldiers were much more worried about vampire attacks than their rescuers.

The command center had become a last-stand within the base. Injured troops lay on top of desks, and the surviving technicians were working frantically on working their way past the combination of jamming and sabotage employed by Millennium, frantically setting up and repairing transmission devices.

Pickman walked over to the base's acting-commander, Lieutenant Young , the same lieutenant who had been filling in for Sir Penwood during the _Eagle_ crisis.

"We're looking for Sir Hellsing." Said Pickman concisely.

"She's no longer here." Replied Young, busy working on a computer. "She took off the second all this began. Though she did us a huge favor by taking out the traitors at this base. Still though, things aren't looking good over here. We just barely managed to fight them off thanks to you, and the communications are rubbish over here."

"Are there any forces that are still able to defend the city?" Asked Pickman.

"If there are, we haven't been able to make contact. I'm fairly certain though, that with the lack of RAF response, as well as the lack of resistance coming from other bases, that most of the military has been wiped out by the freak traitors we just barely managed to avoid falling prey to ourselves." Young shook his head, clearly tired of the situation.

"Our only hope rests on the Round Table, and the Hellsing Organization." He continued. "I received word yesterday that the Round Table had pulled the thousand-man military-trained Hellsing unit out of London on field maneuvers along with a full British Army battalion. If we could get those troops, or some of the Hellsing Organization's men, into the city..." He trailed off hopefully.

"Hellsing HQ isn't in much of a position to respond right now." Said Pickman, dashing the lieutenant's hopes. "Our trump card is stuck on the Atlantic, and from what we've seen here, the men at Hellsing HQ are probably too worried about their own survival to come to our aid right now. As for the Round Table, they've turned traitor." He didn't bother to mention Seras, whom he wanted to keep at headquarters for defense. _After all_, he thought. _If I called her here to back us up, Pip and the other Wild Geese would probably be slaughtered_. He would have to take the first available moment to use the seal to confirm her status.

"We're heading out now." Said Pickman. "We still need to find Integra and regroup at headquarters."

"We'll stay here." Said Young. "We don't have any transportation anyways, we'd be open targets on the street. We should wait here and try to contact any other surviving bases."

"Can you defend yourselves from another attack?" Asked Pickman, knowing that they would be an open target for the rampaging monsters.

"No," replied Young. "But we have set up a little surprise for them." He gestured over to a nearby desk. Pickman looked at it, only to see an explosive strapped to the underside.

"We've rigged the entire base with explosives. If it looks like all is lost, the commander, me in this case, is to detonate the building. We'll at least take some of them down with us."

Pickman was shocked at the lieutenant's suicidal attitude, but he could respect the man's resolve. "Good luck then." Pickman turned around to leave.

"Wait," said Young. "Take this." He threw a handgun and a spare clip over to Pickman.

"Integra gave me this as she was heading out. The bullets are supposedly holy silver. If you're going out into that nightmare, it should come in handy."

Pickman thanked Young, collecting the weapon. He quickly rounded up the mercenaries and walked out of the base. The Hellsing APC took off down the street moments before a second Millennium unit arrived on the scene.

* * *

The Round Table Conference room in the Tower of London was remarkably calm, considering the current situation. One of the Millennium V1s had been on a course for the building, but the SAM installations had intercepted it with a small, guided missile.

"What's the situation?" Asked Islands. An aide stood before the table.

"London is in flames," reported the aide. "We've estimated at least one-million civilian deaths thus far, between the V1s and advance enemy teams. They're still ignoring this structure though. The perimeter guards haven't reported any sort of contact yet."

"Good," said Islands. "Everything is going exactly as we have planned. Do we still have land-wire communications?"

"Yes sir."

"Then send out the order to the units we have stationed outside the city. They are to advance and clear out the Nazi forces. Make sure that they are also ordered to kill any surviving members of the Royal Family, and the parliament."

"How will we justify that to the troops?" Asked the aide, shocked at the audacity of the order.

"Oh, hmm..." Islands feigned thinking for a moment, an excuse already forged in his mind. "In the case of the parliament, they were the traitors who allowed Millennium to infiltrate our military. In the case of the Royal Family, they've been turned into vampires as part of a sick joke by Millennium. The troops are to put them to rest. By the time they make it to Buckingham Palace, it won't be a hard excuse to believe."

"Very well sir." The aide left the room to carry out the order.

"Things are going better than I originally planned." Said Islands to the other Round Table members. "London will be wiped out in these flames. And with it, all of the governing officials of this country, except us that is. We can rebuild this city of the dead as a symbol of our eternal rule over this country. We can expand, and eventually take over the world from the shadows."

"Oh, and what about the Americans?" Asked Sir Marr. "I doubt their shadow rulers would be happy in letting us have so much more power than they."

"By the time this situation is resolved, most of 'them' will be dead." Said Islands smugly. "Haven't you heard? Millennium has a spy in the White House. By now, if it weren't for this silly communications blackout, we'd have heard about him massacring the President and his cabinet. 'They' won't be able to send anything over here in that confusion. As for their European connections; the entire mainland of Europe is focused on the situation in Rome right now. I doubt that anyone over there has even noticed what's going on, which gives us the perfect window of opportunity to strike."

The Round Table Conference continued their conspiring, the battle occurring outside the tower beneath their notice.

* * *

The bridge of the _Hindenburg II_ was bustling with activity. The pursuit of Integra Hellsing had overtaken the importance of the massacre in the city below. The Major stood in the center of it all, reveling in the chaos, the fiery destruction below, the massacre of innocents, he could feel it in the air around him. 

"Sturmbannfuher!" Shouted one of the communications officers. "Captain Gunsche is returning. Though from our reports, Integra Hellsing is still at large."

"It's no matter," said the Major. "If the Captain is returning, he must have something of value with him. In fact, if I could hazard a guess... Yes, that must be it. Call Doc, let him know that a subject is on the way. A most interesting subject."

Another shout drew the Major's attention. "The British Army is mobilizing! Our forward observation balloon just reported that an army battalion and the military-controlled Hellsing unit are both moving towards London!"

"So that's your game Islands?" The Major was amused by the report. "That's good! If the Hellsing Organization turns out to be a disappointment, it's good to know that we can derive at least some amusement from your treacherous attempt at power!"

The Major's laughs seemed to drown out the activity of the bridge, as well as the battle below. They could even be sensed by a lone vampire stuck in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, onboard a burning aircraft carrier that was beginning to mobilize. A burned out wreck being pushed forwards by Alucard's will and amusement alone.

* * *

A/N: Alucard is on his way back to a besieged London, Islands has called in the cavalry, and Pickman rushes to reinforce the pursued Integra. More to come next installment! In the meantime, review! Reviews stoke the fire that is this fic! 


	36. Chapter 34: Mission

Author's Notes: Woah, I didn't expect that much feedback so quickly on the whole 'killing Pickman idea' and I gotta admit, I was mostly thinking along the same lines as you guys. I'd rather not kill him, but I'm going to leave the issue open right now just out of suspense. As well, thank you Slaught, it's always good to see a new reviewer.

* * *

The APC rushed down the street, following the most obvious path back to Hellsing headquarters. If Integra was headed anywhere, it was there. The streets, which had at least been almost un-touched by the destructive events going on in London, were quickly becoming more and more dangerous. Collapsed buildings blocked off the occasional road, forcing detours, and ghouls and corpses began to appear in increasing numbers as the APC drove through the inner-city.

Pickman waited in the back of the rocking vehicle, trying to focus enough to make use of the seal to contact Seras. _It would really help if I'd tried this before_, he thought in hindsight. _I know that Integra can make limited use of telepathy with Alucard, but damn it's difficult to initiate_ _that kind of connection_!

A large explosion lit up the rear window of the APC. Pickman and the mercenaries looked out the back, only to see a huge fireball light up the sky. The explosion had come from the direction of the military base that they had just left. Pickman lowered his head out of respect for the dead soldiers, staying at their posts until the end and choosing to sacrifice their own lives to stall the Millennium Nazis.

_More sacrifices..._ He thought bitterly. _When will it all end? When Millennium is destroyed? When the Round Table has been brought to justice? What kind of world will emerge when this battle is finished?_

A sudden stop brought Pickman out of his thoughts. The driver yelled back to the unit, "there's a group of ghouls blocking our position, I can't get around them. They're surrounding the area. They don't seem interested in us though. They're pushing forwards towards something else."

Pickman quickly realized that the ghouls were probably being used to surround the area where Integra was driving. The zombies weren't fast enough for direct pursuit, but would make excellent roadblocks.

"We're moving out!" He quickly shouted, rousing the mercenaries. "Sir Integra must be located in the center of this area. There's probably a vampire unit with her as well. We have no time to spare!"

He grabbed a few grenades, opening the rear doors of the APC and leading his unit onto the streets. The ghouls didn't make any moves to engage them, merely surging towards the suspected location of Integra.

Pickman tossed his grenades one-by-one into the mass of zombies, destroying enough of them to open a hole in their lines. The Wild Geese furthered the gap with SMG fire. The shots were carefully aimed as to maximize ammo efficiency. After all, there was no assurance that they would be getting re-supplied anytime soon, and the ghouls weren't fighting back.

Finally, there was enough of a gap for Pickman and the Wild Geese to safely move through without worry of the ghouls suddenly changing their minds and surrounding them. They dashed through the opening, careful not to trip on any of the remains littering the street.

After passing the ghoul blockade, there was surprisingly little resistance from Millennium. The streets were nearly deserted, with only the occasional ghoul shuffling about. The unit had moved about two blocks before realizing that the ghouls had been surrounding quite the wide area, and Integra was no where to be found.

However, the Hellsing's position was given away moments later by a rocket explosion. Pickman and the others turned, having heard the blast, seeing a flare of light rise up from a few blocks away. They hurried towards the location, finally having a definite lead on Integra's location.

Minutes later, Pickman charged through the final alleyway leading to the street where the explosion had come from. Gunfire could now be heard in the air, combined with the odd explosion. Pickman held up his Underdog and rounded the corner, only to be confronted with an unusual sight.

Pickman and his men had emerged behind the vampire lines. Through them however, Pickman could make out the black trenchcoats of Iscariot, crosses shining in the moonlight. The gun-wielding paladins were putting up an excellent fight against the Letztes Battalion soldiers, and with the help of Alexander Anderson their victory was assured.

Pickman and the others still joined in though, feeling obliged to help their fellow humans in this time of crisis. The Hellsing fire joined with the Iscariot fire, creating a lethal and unavoidable cross-fire for vampire soldiers.

The Hellsing interference however, did not go unnoticed by the vampires. A duo of Millennium vampires turned around, cutting down one of the mercenaries in a hail of bullets before being silenced by a pair of shots from Pickman's Underdog. Pickman lowered his weapon, seeing Anderson stab the final vampire with a pair of bayonets, following up by pulling outwards with them in order to cut the monster in half.

There was a problem though. Although Pickman and the mercenaries had lowered their weapons, the Iscariots kept their guns raised, aimed at the Hellsing troops and ready to fire.

"Don't even think about it." Came the voice of Alexander Anderson, towering above his subordinates with Heinkel and Yumie at his sides. "Hellsing is our enemy. But... God's plan forces our cooperation in this battle."

"That's right," said Integra, who had been casually leaning against a nearby wall during the battle. "Maxwell's taken his chance at solving this Millennium problem. He failed, so we're going to be doing things my way."

"And you," Anderson had turned towards Integra, speaking with righteous fury. "Don't order us around. I have no doubt that you, these monsters, and your soldiers, are our enemies. We are in fact, surrounded by naught but enemies. Just because I'm opposed to wiping you all out, doesn't mean that I've accepted you as my leader."

"Good," said Integra. "Because I would hate to have overestimated the loyalty of the 'great' Alexander Anderson. Though regardless of your opinion of me, there is a greater evil that requires our cooperation to defeat."

"Let's go." Spoke Anderson, turning again to face his subordinates. "The Hellsing woman has her escorts, and we have a battle to get to. How many paladins do we have left?"

Heinkel answered him. "We're down to about half our men. Ten paladins of the nineteen that survived the battle against Hellsing a few weeks ago."

"These monsters are strong." Observed Anderson, gesturing to the Nazi corpses. "It will be a difficult battle that faces us, but we cannot fall prey to weakness. We have our orders from Maxwell. We are to ensure the survival of Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing, and exterminate this threat."

"I don't understand why this woman has to survive." Said Yumie. "We'll be enemies again after this battle."

"That may be, but she cannot die until I kill Alucard." Answered Anderson. "Giving that beast his freedom would be a disaster."

"Then join us." Offered Integra. "I doubt that even with an escort of my own troops, I would last very long on these streets. And besides, if you want a chance at Alucard, I'm certain he would be happy to oblige you once Millennium has been taken care of."

Anderson met her eyes with his own, judging them. "Very well," he acknowledged begrudgingly. "We lack the power to finish off these monsters right now. Until the circumstances change, we'll keep you in protective custody."

"I would actually prefer for you to escort me to my mansion. The troops need organizing and a counter-attack must be made."

"Very well." Anderson accepted Integra's plan, the Iscariots under him forced to accept it with him. "It's for the greater good at the moment, but you can rest assured knowing that I will, at the first opportunity, kill that abomination under your control."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you." Replied Integra. "Do you have any sort of transportation?"

Anderson gave a quick gesture to Heinkel, "go find a car." He ordered.

"We still have our APC." Cut in Pickman, feeling left out of the conversation. "The driver is looking for a detour to get over here. There are ghouls surrounding the area, likely to prevent anyone from leaving. But we got in easy enough, so I'm certain it shouldn't be too hard to get a vehicle through."

The roar of helicopters interrupted the combined Hellsing/Iscariot group's planning. They could be seen in the air above London, taking positions just north of the city, not yet engaging the Millennium zeppelins.

"What the hell is going on?" Wondered Integra as one of the helicopters flew over their position. "Are there surviving military forces after all?"

"It's probably the Round Table..." Responded Pickman. "I guess their transfer of troops wasn't just to keep them away from London, it was to deliver a counter-attack as well."

"Islands is trying to take everything." Integra was smiling. "What an ambitious traitor. I really underestimated him. He's decided to back-stab both us and Millennium, turning the situation to his own advantage."

"Indeed, yet another example of treachery amongst heathens." Said Anderson mockingly. "Such an insufferable group you English are."

"This madness has gone on long enough." Said Integra resolutely. "If Islands sees this as a chance to wipe out his enemies in one fell swoop, I shall as well." She turned towards Pickman.

"You know that the Round Table is based at the Tower of London, correct?" She said.

"Yes sir," responded Pickman, a plan appearing in his head.

"I want you to take your team over there. Kill Islands and his collaborators. Then try to take control of the forces he's bringing into the city. We can turn his treacherous ways back on Millennium. A fitting punishment for their underhanded ways." Her voice softened for a moment. Thoughts of the loyal men that had sacrificed themselves in service to her consuming her mind. Gareth, Fargason, Walter, and hundreds more.

"I never expected things to play out as they have." She said, raising her head to see the billowing clouds of smoke rising throughout the city. "This will be Hellsing's finest hour. Make no mistake that the outcome of this battle will decide the fate of the world itself. It's quite the burden that I've placed on you, but I am confident that you and your team can succeed."

"It's fine," responded Pickman. "Over the past few months, we've lost so many men to Millennium. I refuse to accept that all of our sacrifices have been for naught. We will prevail, over Islands, and over Millennium."

"Well said," spoke Integra, proud of the organization that she and her family had forged. "Go now, knights of our most sacred order, and deliver victory upon us."

Pickman gave a formal salute. He turned around to gather his men, mercenaries that had suddenly become so much more, leaving Integra in the hands of the begrudgingly cooperative Iscariots. He looked off in the direction of the Tower of London, knowing that it was an impossible task he was faced with, and that death was a certainty.

_It doesn't matter though_, thought Pickman. _We will succeed, not just because we have to, but because we choose to_.

* * *

A/N: A final encounter is in the making, next chapter however, will focus on Seras, Pip, and the battle for Hellsing HQ, along with a well-earned ass-kicking for Zorin Blitz. And of course, we can't forget Alucard.

Gentlemen, I love reviews. I'd go on with a Major-esque speech about them, but I think I'll spare you that agony. But yeah, still review!


	37. Chapter 35: Interception

A/N: With the battle in London about to enter full-swing, I figure now is a good time to go back to Hellsing HQ and see how they're doing, what with Zorin Blitz besieging them and all. Bit of a manga based chapter, but bear with me here.

* * *

The _Grahf Zeppelin II_, containing Zorin Blitz and her crew, was staying away from Hellsing headquarters. They were left to merely blockade the area under the Major's orders. Zorin Blitz couldn't be less happy about the arrangement.

"What is this!" She shouted over the radio. "We can't win this war without attacking Hellsing! Why are we supposed to hold back because they've got one vampire? We've got 80 aboard!"

"Well," came the more timid voice of one of the communications officers aboard the_ Hindenburg II_ . "It's the Major's orders. And besides, we've already launched our nine remaining V1s at Hellsing HQ."

"Really," remarked Blitz. "Well, we'll see how long the Major can hide behind his V1s before they run out. Then it's my turn."

"I'll relay that to him." Acknowledged the communications officer, before cutting the connection.

"Pilot!" She shouted, gaining the attention of the bridge crew. "There'll be a V1 attack on Hellsing HQ in a matter of minutes. I want this ship to follow them in after firing all fifteen of own V1s to support them. After the V1s do their damage, deploy the troops and finish off whatever is left behind by the rockets."

The bridge crew answered her with a cheer, eager to finally enter the battle that they had waited decades for.

* * *

Seras looked over at the monstrosity of a weapon that she would be using to repel the zeppelin hovering just outside of range. The Harkonnen II, defensive, long-range, shelling, artillery. It was a pair of anti-aircraft guns basically. The two guns were capable of semi-automatic fire due to a belt loading mechanism connected to a pair of a ammunition drums attached to the back of the unit. It weighed in at about 345kg. It was an impossible weapon for a human to wield. For Seras however, it was just another over-sized toy.

"Our radar just picked up some inbound rockets," came Pip's voice over her headset. The Hellsing HQ had powerful enough signal boosting gear to punch through the Millennium Organization's jamming , giving them a much needed edge in coordination.

Seras reached out with her enhanced sight, moving past the hovering zeppelin, and catching sight of the targeted weapons. She quickly took note of their positions, waiting for them to enter the 4km range of the Harkonnen II.

The zeppelin's engines began to start up, slowly pushing the monstrous craft towards the building. Seras waited on the roof of the Hellsing Manor, knowing that the zeppelin was a secondary target when compared to the V1 rockets.

The rockets finally entered range, zooming past and from the zeppelin. Seras swung the barrels of the Harkonnen II skywards, facing the scattered formation of V1s. She rapidly pulled the trigger, the belt-feed coming to life as she fired as fast as the gun would let her. At the range the V1s were at, it was natural to expect misses, no matter how good one's aim is. Rather than use single shots, she sent a perfectly aimed volley at each missile, waiting to catch an explosion before changing targets.

By the time that the V1s had entered the 2km range, there were only three remaining. The added proximity of the rockets allowed Seras to better target them. They were destroyed before reaching the 1800 meter mark. Rather than carry the attack and move onto the enemy zeppelin, she paused to allow the weapons to cool down after firing.

Pip's voice came over her headset again. "Nice work mignonette." He said, having finally gotten used to the presence of Seras. "You and those guns seem to be holding up pretty well."

"The Harkonnen II," she reflected. "It's a great piece of equipment."

"It suits you." Said Pip. "After all, big guns and big-" Seras slapped her hand against her forehead as the captain continued, almost wishing that he was still scared witless of her.

Pip's voice sobered moments later as he asked Seras, "mignonette, can you see London?" Seras looked past the zeppelin, towards the fires that lit up the sky behind it.

"Yes." She answered simply, unsure how to feel at the sight.

"The most important landmarks of British history lie in ashes. The populace is dead and dying. Piccadilly, Soho, and the Covent Garden were reduced to ashes in the first wave of attacks. London, has become a synonym for hell."

Pip continued, trying to explain more for his own benefit than Seras'. "I never liked London. It's an old city, and I don't fit in there. But, the people were nice, they took good care of us while we were there. None of them deserved what has happened tonight. They're now dead and feasting on the dead, and for what? This war isn't theirs. The names of Millennium, Hellsing, Section XIII, and The Round Table, meant nothing to innocents like them. I just, I just can't stand it!"

Pip's voice became resolute. "Seras, we have to slaughter these Nazi fucks without mercy. We need to make them regret the day they were born, or created, or whatever the hell was done to them! Let us avenge London."

Seras agreed wholeheartedly. She turned her attention to the zeppelin, thinking that it would turn back without it's support.

The zeppelin pushed on however, beginning to fire off search-lights at the Hellsing Manor in an attempt to locate their assailant. Seras didn't bother to wait for them to notice her on their own. She decided to grab their attention by redirecting the Harkonnen II and firing at the gigantic airship. The shots, although light in comparison to the size of the zeppelin, were enough to pierce through the armored fuselage. Fires began to break out as the airship approached Hellsing HQ.

* * *

"We've lost all twenty-four of the modified V1s!" Came a shout from one of the bridge consoles.

"Impossible!" Yelled out another officer. "They were all launched simultaneously, and Hellsing doesn't have the firepower to take them all out at one!"

"We've been hit!" Screamed yet another officer. "There are fires breaking out in section 3."

"Searchlights!" Shouted out Zorin Blitz. "Find what just hit us!" She already knew what it was though, and she was starting to realized the error she had made by putting the zeppelin in harm's way.

The lights weaved around the Hellsing Manor's roof, trying to find the source of the enemy fire. Finally the shadow of Seras was revealed, leading up to the visible sight of her firing at the zeppelin.

"Damn it!" Shouted Zorin. "We don't have the armor we need to repel an attack from that kind of artillery! She'll shred us to pieces, and we can't even turn around to escape in this monster of an aircraft."

The heavy artillery rounds burst through various points along the zeppelin's exterior, destroying equipment and crewmen alike. The elevation control mechanisms were going haywire with the constant damage, unable to keep the zeppelin's weight balanced under the strain of Seras' onslaught.

"Take us into a crash landing!" Ordered Zorin, in a burst of inspiration. "We'll crush Hellsing HQ and that bitch Seras as well!"

The zeppelin changed it's course, making use of the few remaining systems to turn the massive bulk of the airship towards Seras and the mansion she was atop of.

* * *

Seras stared into the face of the incredibly large zeppelin, consuming her field of vision despite it still being over two kilometers away. She noted that the airship had changed it's course, firing itself towards her like a gigantic missile. She was't about to let the Millennium vampires' plan come to pass though.

She quickly switched firing settings on the Harkonnen II, sending the custom-designed Vladimir grenade launchers swinging over-top the two barrels of the weapon. Another button detached the shells around the weapons, readying the pair of wide-saturation explosives for firing. She pulled the trigger, expecting the powerful kickback of the weapons. Instead though, the gun simply clicked rather than release it's potent load of explosive ordinance.

"Um... Seras? What's going on?" Pip was monitoring her through the roof cameras. "Shouldn't that thing be firing?"

Seras shook the gun, hoping for some sort of reaction; though she was also hoping that the grenades wouldn't prematurely detonate with the shaking. "D... damnit!" She shouted, frustrated at the weapon's inconvenient jamming. "Why isn't it...?"

Pip's voice over the radio answered her. "I dunno," he said. "Walter designed it, so I can't see it failing on us like this!"

Seras quickly inspected the weapon, looking for something to un-jam or pull. She had never used the weapon before, having too little time lately to have even known of it's existence prior to the attack.

"Um... mignonette? I hope you realize that our lives are sorta in your hands right now..." Pip was getting nervous, the shape of the incoming zeppelin blocking more and more of his vision through the cameras.

_That's what we get for not field-testing equipment properly first_! Thought Seras bitterly. _Though with all that's happened as of late, I could see why Walter made a mistake on this one. Having Sir Integra locked up, along with his breaking out with her, must have really cut into his design time_...

She looked up, the zeppelin consuming her vision. Seras was now furiously shaking and examining the right barrel, focusing on getting at least one shot to fire.

_1900 meters_, she thought. _1800, 1700_... She could almost hear Zorin Blitz's insane laughter as the _Graf Zeppelin II_ neared Hellsing HQ.

* * *

A/N: Bit of a cliff-hanger, but I don't want things to follow the manga exactly... And yeah, before I forget; please review, I really appreciate all forms of feedback. 


	38. Chapter 36: Crashing Down

A/N: Man, it's been difficult to write during the week these days. I figure that I can still toss the odd one of here or there, but it'll be rarer. Plus I've got an idea for another Hellsing fic, 'Wild Goose Chase', a sort of continuation to Coyote(removing all the odd stuff that separated their universe from the Hellsing one), with Pip Bernadotte(or rather, his grandfather) and company chasing the Major around South America after World War II(with Russians, Hellsing, and Iscariot running amuck as well). I'll be working on the groundwork for that as well.

Zaisha; yes, a Walter-made weapon malfunctioning is indeed a sign of the apocalypse. But practically, Walter has been under a lot of stress. This time around, he barely had time enough to design the Harkonnen II before being whisked away on one crazy attack, or meeting, or something. Therefor I remove his responsibility for the Harkonnen's malfunction.

Lennox, I wish I could take credit for the Harkonnen II, but it's a canon cannon(gah! That doesn't read right...). As for the spirits, I was actually debating on including one of those weapon-spirit scenes, but it's getting too climactic for something that light-hearted to be pulled off. Maybe I could edit it into an earlier chapter and see if anyone notices...

Slaught, thank you for the encouragement. I always liked shifting things around in the Hellsing story. It became especially easy after I made the first few little sagas, as their implications tended to alter the later events.

And Kadje, I dunno about giving Pickman a super-human moment. I figure it's good enough that he has a decent weapon, and an author to script out his action-scenes.

* * *

The _Graf Zeppelin II_ was a flaming wreck, unable to turn away from the Hellsing Manor even if Zorin Blitz wasn't ordering the kamikaze attack. The engines of the massive airship were aflame. The crew, were they not vampires, would have been long-dead from smoke inhalation or at least knocked out by the impacts the structure of the zeppelin had taken during Seras' bombardment. The vessel's course was set though, and it seemed that nothing could prevent the coming crash. 

Seras was getting more and more desperate with each passing second. The zeppelin was barreling towards her. The only weapon she had in her arsenal that could shoot down the damaged monstrosity was broken. She gave the barrels of the Harkonnen II another violent shake, trying to provoke some sort of reaction from the Vladimir grenade launchers. Within about two minutes and thirty seconds, the zeppelin would be too close for even those to make a difference though.

Seras thrust the right barrel forwards, trying to get the launcher to fire off of sheer momentum. _This just isn't working_, she thought. _Short of jumping up to the zeppelin and hitting it with this thing, I'm not going to get anymore use out of it_. Even the fire-mode trigger was out, preventing Seras from switching back to regular fire. She took a quick look at the burning vessel occupying her forward field of vision, before resuming work on the Harkonnen II.

She finally managed to analyze the problem by tearing off the outer shell of the right gun, panic overpowering caution. What she found was enough to send her into despair. The interior of the Harkonnen was devastated. The weapon had malfunctioned in adjusting the internal firing pressure when switching from normal shells to the Vladimir grenade launchers. The same damage would probably be found in the left. She threw the weapons aside in disgust. Pip's voice came over the radio, ordering all personnel in the front sectors of the mansion to evacuate further back, but Seras ignored it.

She detached the massive, and slightly annoying, back unit of the Harkonnen II, allowing it to fall to the ground with the ammo belt. She stood before the flaming zeppelin unarmed, trying to figure out if she had enough power to take it on_. I won't allow them to win!_ She thought with confidence. _I have all this power, I should be able to use it to stop them!_ A plan began to form in her mind. One that would require all the power that she had been able to muster under the Control Art Restriction System and then some.

* * *

Zorin Blitz had picked up her scythe, and was now awaiting the impact of the Graf Zeppelin II. Behind her stood a handful of vampire shock troops, some of the best soldiers out of the unit that she had been assigned. As the zeppelin hit the Hellsing Manor, they would smash through the forward window of the airship, leading the units that were even now dropping from the lower hatches of the zeppelin. 

It was a simple plan. While Blitz and her troops occupied the Hellsing forces, the main troops would proceed on foot towards the manor. The Hellsing forces would be crushed by the reinforcements, as Blitz's team would be preventing them from using any surviving fixed weapons emplacements to attack the vampires from afar.

The plan seemed perfect. Even Seras Victoria, the Hellsing officer who was considered second only after Alucard in terms of power, was unable to stop them, having abandoned her weapons in what Zorin had perceived as outright terror.

A report came from one of the shock-troops. "First Lieutenant! The main body of our force, 74 soldiers, have finished their deployment over the airspace a kilometer off from Hellsing HQ. We'll be striking their building in just under one minute. The troops will follow us in."

"Good," said Zorin confidently, happy that the situation was finally under her control again. That mood was shattered moments later however, when she spotted Seras thrust her hands out in front of herself, yelling something inaudible from Zorin's range of hearing. A dark aura began to form around the Hellsing officer, and Zorin was beginning to have second thoughts about her plan to crash into the non-artificial vampiress.

Seras leapt into the air, in a transformed state under the vampire aura. She flew at the zeppelin at an inhumanly fast speed, crossing the kilometer in a few seconds. Zorin Blitz could only stare in shock as she adjusted her vision to compensate for the rapid change in position. Seras landed several decks above the observation window, at the connecting section between the zeppelin's balloon and engines, and the main operational body below.

Zorin could feel the shaking of the zeppelin as Seras spread her will through the vessel. A burst of dark-blue aura cut down through the ceiling, slicing through the control systems behind Zorin. Similar uncontrolled bursts began to fire through the ship, cutting through the connecting decks. _She's trying to sever the zeppelin in two?_ Thought Zorin in a panic. _Is that even possible? Could I have underestimated her so badly?_

She began to feel the zeppelin shake even more as the connecting decks were cut. The bulk of the cut-off decks began to lean forwards with nothing to attach them to the stabilizing bulk of the balloon above. Zorin sickly noted that the balloon itself was still perfectly positioned. The final few sections cut off, either by Seras, or by the dragging weight of the already cut-off decks.

The troops around Zorin were panicking as the detached lower compartments hurtled forwards, still traveling towards the Hellsing Manor thanks to the momentum at which they had been detached. The balloon, having nothing to drag it down, began to ease it's descent. The lower compartments, with nothing to hold them up, were going to undershoot the mansion. The balloon, although damaged to the point where rising would be impossible, had lost enough drag to allow it to overshoot the building.

Zorin Blitz cursed Seras as she saw the vampiress kick off from the lower compartments of the _Graf Zeppelin II_. She barely had enough time to see Seras sailing safely towards the roof of the Hellsing Manor, before the front yard of the mansion came rushing up to meet the observation window.

* * *

Seras landed on the roof of the Hellsing Manor, exhausted after destroying the Nazi zeppelin. Cheers could be heard over the radio as the impact of the lower half of the vessel striking the driveway of the mansion shook the building. The burning balloon sailed harmlessly overhead, it's course altered with it's burden lifted. Moments later, a fiery explosion came from the fields behind the Hellsing estate as the balloon finally met it's end, finishing off the _Graf Zeppelin II_. 

She finally remembered her radio, patching into Pip's channel. His voice came on immediately.

"Quit celebrating!" He shouted. "There's still at least 70 of those monsters closing in on us. Get those forward turrets operational pronto! If they get over here, we're done for, Seras or no."

"Captain!" She warned over the radio. "There's too many of them for a few machine-gun emplacements to take care of!"

"I know, my mignonette." He said confidently. "But I've also arranged some surprises for those monsters. With their best troops dead in that zeppelin crash, I doubt we'll even need the fixed weapons."

"I hope you're right..." Said Seras, unsure of what humans could do to prepare for an attack by an army of fully-armed vampires.

Unbeknownst to Seras and the Wild Geese, the wrecked portion of the Graf Zeppelin II lying in front of the Hellsing Manor was not depopulated. Zorin Blitz and her elite troops clawed their way out of the wreckage, eager to carry out their plan and take revenge on Seras and her compatriots.

* * *

A/N: The next chapter is the conclusion of the mansion attack, and you'll see where I came up with the idea for my next fic once I'm finished with this one. Also, as a bit of a disclaimer, if the physics of this chapter struck you as messed up, this is the  
Hellsing universe, so it can be chalked up to... I dunno, Alucard interfering or somthing. 


	39. Chapter 37: Blitzkrieg

A/N: I said this was the final chapter of the mansion assault. Thus, it'll be a long one. Pardons for the delay, but last week was a long one, and this has an unfortunately low level of priority.

* * *

Pip got up from his chair. The main body of the Letztes Battalion force was waiting just a kilometer off, but the destruction of their zeppelin would probably cause some hesitation before they attacked to avenge their commander. 

He walked over to security room's table, where he had left his gear. He picked up his M4 carbine, making a quick check on the gun's condition. Satisfied, he hooked it onto his shoulder strap.

The next piece of equipment was his preferred sidearm, a Colt Single Action Army. Although the SAA was an obsolete weapon, it was a family heirloom dating back to his grandfather. The fact that it had always used custom silver rounds was something Pip had always questioned as odd, until he began working for Hellsing that is.

The final item was a handled-bayonet, also belonging to his late-grandfather. That it was an odd weapon was the least that could be said about it. During the briefing before Maxwell had first visited the Hellsing Manor to discuss his 'deal', Pip and the others had been briefed on the known Iscariot agents. The photos of Alexander Anderson's weapon of choice had reminded Pip of the old weapon and he decided to make a quick trip back to France to recover it from his family. The blade had been silver-treated, probably a custom modification done later after the weapon's production. He carefully fit the handled weapon into it's custom holster, wondering about it's practical applications against vampires.

He sat back down at the security console, ready for whatever those Nazi bastards could throw at him and the Geese.

* * *

Sergeant-Major Alfern von Kluge watched in horror as the _Graf Zeppelin II_ separated into halves, neither on a course for Hellsing HQ. He and the other soldiers of the Last Battalion watched as the fiery explosions consumed their perfect plan, and their perfect advantage. 

"Damnit..." Kluge muttered, looking over at the demoralized troops. A wave of resolution struck him as he watched their expressions of shock shift to that of rage. Kluge knew he had to take charge of the vampire unit.

"Everyone, spread out!" He shouted. "We can still attack the mansion. Nothing has changed! If we attack in a spread formation, we can easily dodge their attacks and reach the mansion. From there, we can avenge the First Lieutenant and feed on those miserable vermin!"

The troops gave a cheer and began to spread out in preparation of the attack. Kluge watched as the monsters readied to spring into action and dash across the field.

Kluge took the first bound, charging ahead of his troops. Within a moment, some of the faster vampires had already caught up with him, eager to shed Hellsing blood. Kluge couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm. He rejoiced as the mansion grew closer, nearing the 500 meter mark. In his happiness, he didn't even notice the click of his foot stepping on a small, metallic object. He did however, notice the explosion that enveloped his vision microseconds later, abruptly cutting off his good mood.

* * *

Seras watched from a window as the Letztes Battalion forces advanced. Although exhausted, she was certain that she could take on at least half of them unarmed. However, she was hoping that Captain Bernadotte's surprise would ease that burden, if he ever told her what that surprise was. 

An explosion lit up the field in front of the mansion, consuming the lead vampire as the Wild Geese let out a cheer. More explosions rose up from the field, consuming the rest of the forward-most vampires. She could see limbs flying as the explosions reached up from the ground to consume the undead force.

"Wha-what is this?" She choked out.

"This, mignonette," said Pip, "is a minefield"

The vampires, having taken casualties, tried to pull back and regroup. Pip responded by pulling out a remote detonator and rapidly tapping the button. Explosions lit up the field behind the Nazis, wiping out their rear units and trapping them between remotely detonated explosives and a minefield.

"You see mignonette," said Pip. "We don't stand a chance against even regular vampires in close-range combat, we humans at least. Vampires are too strong, too fast, and hell, they can even use limited psychic abilities. As so, they can easily read and react to the actions of an average human. That's why having a minefield is so handy. It has no thoughts, no movements, nothing to give it's presence away. And the explosion is unavoidable at that kind of range, no matter your super-human speed."

"You would resort to such trickery?" Asked Seras.

"No offense, but that's a stupid question. Look at London off in the distance. Even I can see the fire and smoke from here. Law and etiquette were murdered by these monsters. If they're stupid enough to attack us head-on, I won't be losing any sleep over it."

The vampire force pushed forwards again, slowly this time. Pip gave a signal and the window mounted turrets opened fire, wiping out the slower opposition. The surviving enemies finally managed to push through most of the minefield and take cover behind a hill about 300 meters off from the building. Pip shook his head and pressed another button on his remote. Explosions tore through the base of the hill, causing it to collapse on the few survivors.

"Keep on full-alert!" Ordered Pip. "Just because we think we've won this round doesn't mean that we actually got them all! I want a team out there in five minutes to shift through that debris out front!"

Seras sat back as Pip began to order the mop-up operations. _Still though_, she thought. _I just can't help but think there's still something out there_...

* * *

Zorin Blitz and her team of five vampires finally finished crawling and pushing their way through the wreckage of the _Graf Zeppelin II_. They regrouped under the cover of the destroyed zeppelin, their very survival a testament to vampire durability. 

"We need to change plans." Said Zorin, remarkably calm for a commander who had lost her flagship as well as all but five troops. "We still have enough power to wipe out these insects, we just need to use it intelligently."

The five subordinates were the elite of the Waffen SS, they kept their cool as well, lamenting not for the comrades they had lost, but anticipating the coming victory.

"I need you five to occupy the human forces. Try not to put yourselves in danger, even if it means focusing on evasion, not attack. In the meantime, I'll take out that Seras whore. Even if she's physically unstoppable doesn't mean that her mind is anywhere near as strong. After I kill her, I'll fire off a mass illusion to distract those miserable soldiers. Then we can massacre to our hearts' content." It was another good plan, one that could possibly satisfy the Major's need for vengeance after Zorin had gone and lost her troops and transport. Zorin hoped, for her own sake, that Seras wouldn't be able to stop her this time.

The troops gave a nod, beginning to move into the shadows of the mansion. Their proximity to the mansion made it much easier for them to strategically locate themselves outside of windows. Zorin Blitz picked up a woman's voice, Seras' she presumed, and located herself under the window. It took everything she had to control her aggression and keep from being detected. But it would only take a few more seconds for her comrades to get into position...

* * *

Seras' feeling of uneasiness was growing stronger as the sentries began to report nothing moving in the field out front from the building. She could almost sense a creeping shadow enveloping the Hellsing Manor. The feeling was also, unfortunately, impossible to place on any one location. 

All of a sudden, the feeling of unease dropped into the very familiar sensing of vampires. The windows surrounding the central wing of the mansion smashed inwards as vampires rushed in. Seras took a moment to notice that there was only a handful of attackers, their entrance and mobility giving the impression of more. Also, numerous cuts and burns covered the attackers, injuries that could only have been caused by the zeppelin crash minutes ago.

Seras whipped out a Casull, taking aim at the nearest vampire. Before she could pull the trigger however, the window that she had previously been looking through smashed open. Seras stood face to face with the commander of the enemy force. She had only caught a glimpse of the Nazi as she attacked the zeppelin, so she took a moment to study her foe.

The vampire commander held a wicked looking scythe in her left hand. Tattoos covered the monster's right-side, head to toe. The tattoos were composed of random letter combinations, almost shifting as Seras glanced at them.

"You must be Seras Victoria..." Said the monster, with a barely restrained fury.

"Y-yes, I am." She responded.

"Good! I am first-lieutenant Zorin Blitz. I'm glad to finally have a chance to kill you. For all the trouble you've caused me, die!"

Zorin Blitz slammed her tattooed right arm to the ground. Seras couldn't visibly detect any trickery afoot yet, but her senses were going haywire. The letters from Zorin Blitz's tattoos began to flow into the floor, consuming it.

The letters snaked across the hallway, circling around Seras before she even realized what was happening. She lashed out at the letters as they began to form a barrier around her, yet her fists couldn't damage an illusion. Finally, the swirling, hypnotizing flow of the tattoos covered Seras' vision, dropping her into sleep.

* * *

Zorin Blitz watched with glee as Seras fell under her power. Ordinarily she could have put the entire hallway under her spell, but a vampire of Seras' power wasn't to be trifled with. She had required the full extent of her powers to ensure the draculina's submission. 

_Not that it matters though_, thought Zorin. _My men will keep those stupid soldiers busy long enough for me to execute that stupid bitch_.

Zorin walked towards Seras, scythe held above her. Sure it was un-sporting to kill an opponent that was incapable of defending herself, but Zorin Blitz would certainly get over it.

However, just as she brought the scythe down on Seras, a burst of gunfire struck her in the side. Zorin was knocked off balance, the finishing attack ruined. She turned towards her attacker furiously, and couldn't believe who it was.

* * *

Pip kept his M4 raised, waiting for the reaction of his opponent. Zorin Blitz turned towards him, a look of shock on her face. A stream of letters flowed from her right side, trailing towards an enveloped Seras. 

"You!" She shouted. "Minus an eye from last time, but it's still you!"

Pip gave her a look of confusion, not knowing where she had recognized him from.

"This is impossible," Zorin Blitz said, getting over the brief shock. "You're not a vampire, so you couldn't possibly be this young still. Who the hell are you?"

"Pip Bernadotte," he answered. "And I can safely say that I've never met you before. Bitches like you don't meet my standards of women."

Zorin Blitz let out a chuckle, turning her full attention to Pip.

"This is rich!" She laughed, finally realizing her foe's identity. "I knew we should have gone after his family! But the Major wanted to keep hidden. He didn't think that it was worth going after a mercenary, no matter how troublesome."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Pip asked. This conversation was wearing on longer than he liked, but he wanted to stall. The enemy forces were limited, and his men would get rid of them eventually. He just had to keep Seras alive and wait for reinforcements.

"He never told you did he?" Zorin Blitz let out another laugh. "You carry his name, yet he never bothered to tell you such a great story?"

"My grandfather?" Pip asked, as he was named after the elder mercenary.

"Exactly!" Shouted Zorin. "It's good to see your feeble mind is finally starting to grasp the subject."

"What did my grandfather have to do with you bastards?" Pip's patience was really wearing thin, but his interest had been piqued.

"He was one of the Major's many enemies." Said Blitz, knowing that she really had as much time as she wanted to explain. _After all_, she thought. _Even with only five vampires remaining at my disposal, those inferior humans don't stand a chance at defeating us without their slave_.

"He fought with the French Resistance as a mercenary." She continued. "In fact, his little Coyote band brought about a serious defeat for the Millennium Project. The Major had been transferred there after the Poland debacle in 1944, another reason to hate this stupid Hellsing Organization and it's interference. The Major had been given limited command over the western front. Erwin Rommel, our most talented general, was even sent over to ensure that the Allies didn't interfere further with the project."

Pip raised an eyebrow at this odd history.

"The Allies were perfectly content with Germany being defeated by the Soviet Union." Zorin continued. "It wasn't until they heard of the Millennium Project being re-activated, that they began their plans for an all-out invasion of France. Even with Rommel's failure to protect Normandy however, we still had a secure fortress and escape route in France. The Resistance, unfortunately, ruined our chances of counter-attacking by raiding our headquarters. We were forced to pack up our specimens, oh-so-close to being ready for combat, and retreat in a Vatican-supplied airship."

Pip could figure that Zorin Blitz was telling the truth. It seemed that his appearance had jogged some memories in the Nazi vampire. He nodded for her to continue, each combatant figuring that time was on their respective sides.

"But it didn't end there." She continued still. "He was hired to come after us. He chased us all the way to South America. With him, Hellsing, Iscariot, Russia, and America all snooping around for us, it was remarkable that we managed to cover our tracks well enough to survive. But, that's a story that I figure you can die not knowing. Perhaps you can ask your grandfather, when I send you to join him!"

Zorin Blitz, realizing that there was still a chance that her subordinates could lose against the mercenary army, charged at Pip. She was moving at an amazing speed for a human, but slow for a vampire, as her was being drained to keep Seras subdued.

Pip was caught off guard by the attack, raising his rifle and firing in response. His body reacted automatically to Zorin Blitz's charge, firing at her even if the regular bullets didn't seem to do much damage. He snapped to his senses as Blitz approached melee range, raising his gun sideways to block the coming slash.

Zorin Blitz's scythe tore through Pip's M4, leaving him holding two halves of it. Pip threw the pieces away, drawing his revolver and bayonet. Zorin was struck with another wave of nostalgia as Pip leapt back and readied the weapons.

Pip fired off the revolver as Zorin stood in shock. The shot hit her left leg, a bloody mark appearing in her pant-leg. The shot however, was more than enough to spur Zorin into action. She charged again at Pip, holding her scythe in front of her like a spear.

Pip noticed that Zorin Blitz was moving slower than an average vampire. He attributed it to the flow of lettering moving from her, to Seras. _If I can just do enough damage to break her concentration on Seras_, he thought. He quickly strafed to avoid a thrust from Zorin's scythe.

He knew he had to take the offensive in this battle, as Zorin Blitz would eventually catch up to him. He aimed his revolver and fired a second shot, this one striking Zorin's shoulder. The heavier rounds of the revolver, combined with their silver treatment, allowed for them to inflict real damage on the monster.

Zorin Blitz, fed up with the nuisance that Pip was providing, took a different approach. She held out her scythe, using the blade of the weapon to cover her body. Pip fired again, this time aiming for the center of Zorin's chest. Zorin however, was ready this time. She quickly flicked her blade into the bullet's path, using the scythe as a shield. The bullet ricocheted off the blade, striking the ceiling harmlessly.

Pip still kept the advantage of mobility though, managing to evade the slow and cumbersome scythe that Zorin Blitz carried with relative ease. _Why is she using such a crappy weapon?_ Thought Pip. _I guess she only fights opponents who can't fight back_.

He kept the revolver trained on Zorin, and raised his bayonet blade above the gun. Then, in a near-suicidal act, he charged at Zorin. She immediately slashed out with her scythe, forcing Pip to leap back. The slash left an opening however, which he used to get a shot in on her face with the revolver.

Zorin flinched from the silver round, smoke rising from the wound. Pip followed up by getting in close and slashing at Zorin's left arm with his bayonet. The silver hissed as it cut into Zorin's flesh, causing her to jump back and drop the scythe. She still stood before Pip however, and her spell over Seras was still intact.

"You annoying insect..." Zorin muttered. "Why don't you just die already!"

Zorin began to strafe down the hall, dodging a shot from Pip. She closed in on the mercenary, fists ready to pummel the life out of him. Pip backpedaled from Zorin's attack, trying to keep her contained at range. He fired his final shot, scoring a hit on her right arm, leaving her with her right-leg as the only undamaged limb.

Pip holstered the revolver, knowing that Zorin Blitz would never give him a chance to reload. He switched the bayonet into his right hand, readying himself for an encounter with Zorin's fists. The Nazi monster launched herself at Pip, only to receive a slash across the face from his bayonet.

Zorin Blitz recoiled in pain, finally realizing that without access to her superior vampiric speed and strength, or her disabling powers, that even a miserable human could defeat her. She let out a scream at the thought of vermin like Pip Bernadotte succeeding in killing her.

Pip kept the bayonet ready, knowing that Zorin Blitz was getting desperate, and that she would probably try something foolish, yet with a good chance of killing him. Zorin Blitz failed to disappoint in that regard. The trail of letters flowing from her cut off. She released her grip on Seras, trusting that the illusion she was under would hold for a few seconds without reinforcing.

In a flash of movement, she stood before Pip. He slashed out with his bayonet, only to have Zorin flick the weapon aside as if it was nothing. She grabbed Pip by the neck, lifting him up with her right arm, and readying a finishing punch with her left. Pip braced himself for the attack, knowing that Seras was at least free to avenge him.

But the finishing punch never came. A pair of shots hit Zorin's shoulders, forcing her to drop Pip to the ground as she recoiled from the damage. She turned to face her new enemy, only to have a Casull round strike her in the face, pushing through the lodged revolver bullet.

Seras stood before Zorin, free from her illusions.

"How dare you!" Seras shouted, aura flashing into existence around her. "How dare you make me re-live that!"

Seras rushed towards Zorin. The Millennium Nazi rose her arms to block, but Seras simply punched through them, shattering bone as if it was nothing. Zorin's arms fell uselessly to her sides as Seras grabbed her by the face. Zorin could only scream in terror as Seras slammed her into the wall.

Zorin Blitz however, was not finished yet. With an amazing show of willpower, she dragged her broken right arm to grab Seras. The tattoos flowed again around her, consuming Seras in a haze. But Seras didn't falter this time. Her aura shattered the illusions with raw power.

Zorin tried to hold on though, to flood Seras' mind with enough anguish to pacify her. Yet it wasn't working. In fact, the illusions seemed to be doing more to consume her than Seras. She was surrounded in darkness, Seras free to do whatever she wished. A figure appeared before Zorin, making use of the illusion world to contact Zorin without Seras' interference.

"What's up Zorin?" Came the voice of Schrodinger. "Actually, you don't look like you're in much of a position to speak, so I'll just tell you what's going on."

"What are you doing here?" Asked Zorin, able to get out a sentence under the choking pressure of Seras.

"Don't be so surprised," he answered. "I am everywhere, and nowhere of course. The Major sent me with a message. He's not too happy that you disobeyed his orders. Your strategy was good, but your choice of targets, and regard to orders, was awful. Now that you've lost your men, and the equipment we so graciously gave you, you should be bursting into flames any second now. Actually, that would be too merciful. The Doc and Major are too busy right now to execute you. So instead, we'll leave it to Seras over here to show you the error of your ways."

With that, the illusion shattered, leaving Zorin Blitz to confront an angry Seras without any support. She could only scream in terror as Seras transformed to deliver the finishing blow.

* * *

A/N: That was a long chapter, written over the course of a few days. Thus it may be riddled with errors that I can't find. As always, I look to the reviewers for feedback, be it analysis of my writing, comments, opinions, flames(God forbid), constructive criticism, whatever you want. 


	40. Chapter 38: The Coming Dawn

Author's note: Well, busy week thus far, meaning that I haven't had much time for updating. School has been hell, as I've expected thus far. On the plus side however, I have taken the odd break to write on paper (because I don't own a laptop. I could use one though).

Zaisha, as usual, you caught me on that nit-pick. I always figured that when it came to automatics, the sheer quantity of rounds made up for the quality. Though, in volume 7, one of the geese commented about running out of the few silver bullets they had. I'm just chalking it up to them already using up the silver rounds they had in stock on Seras, or even regular freak-vampires. After all, the Round Table probably commandeered any new silver-clips for their own forces.

Lennox, thanks again for the encouragement. As for Zorin's rant, I was actually bouncing around some ideas for my next fic. It's all coming together nicely there as well. Perhaps I'll start in couple weeks, after midterms and essays are finished.

Magtec. Thank you once again. And yes, Alucard will appear shortly. I just want to draw things out, because we all know what happens when Alucard enters the fray. I just want to get all the proper pieces in place before his grand entry.

Darthjag, thanks for the review. To tell you the truth, the Patriots were actually whom I had in mind when I said 'they'. But really, since I'm not about to intrude on other fandoms, especially in such easily caught references (I try to be a tad more subtle), it's really open to interpretation. Though really, I may just work that angle into my next fic, or even a continuation of this one.

* * *

Pip stood up slowly, still dazed from Zorin Blitz's attack. He could see a shadowy aura covering Seras and Zorin, obscuring his vision of what was going on. He took a moment to reload his revolver, just in case Seras was subdued again.

The aura wore away moments later, revealing Seras standing over the broken body of Zorin Blitz. Pip took quick aim, moving to put a bullet in Zorin's head just to make sure it was over, only to realize that the corpse lying on the ground was missing one. Pip winced at the thought of what Seras had done to the illusion-weaving vampire.

"Nice work mignonette," he said, casually walking over to her. "But I have to ask, what on Earth did that monster do to you?"

"She..." Seras was still partially in shock, even after being freed from Zorin's spell. "I...I saw..." She broke down into tears moments later, streaks of blood flowing from her eyes.

Pip put his arms around her, making sure to keep it as a purely comforting gesture. He led her over to the wall, letting her lean against it. She slumped down, a wreck after exacting her revenge on Zorin_. I'd better give her some time to recover_, he thought. _Whatever it was that she just experienced, it must have been pretty damn traumatizing_.

Pip then moved towards the main hall, remembering that his men were probably still engaged with the other vampires that had accompanied Zorin Blitz in attacking the mansion. The main hallway was a wreck. An explosion had destroyed parts of the central staircase, dead and injured soldiers littered the floor, but there was still a small group of Wild Geese left standing in the area. Pip's vice-captain ran up to him to report.

"Sir," he addressed. "We managed to defeat the five enemy vampires that breached the perimeter. Casualties were high however. Of the seventy men we had stationed here at the mansion, ten are dead, and eighteen wounded. Most of the unit is still ready for action though."

Pip knew what they had to do. "All right," he said. "We'll be heading into London shortly. Integra is there. As is Pickman and ten of our boys. The battle is probably still going on over there, otherwise the enemy would have deployed some reinforcements over here."

"Sir, should we really get involved over there?" Asked the vice-captain. "Our orders were to protect the Hellsing headquarters from enemy attack. I don't see why we have to stick our necks out any further than necessary."

"We'll leave a garrison of twenty men here, alright?" Responded Pip. "And besides, we were hired as soldiers of the Hellsing Organization. This battle is ours too. Also, even if we do keep out of this, where do you think those monsters will go after finishing of London?"

"Roger, cap'n," replied the vice-captain, not wanting to answer Pip's last question. "I'll gather the men."

"We'll be heading out in half-an-hour." Ordered Pip. "Get the vehicles ready, collect as much ammo as possible, and take a break. God knows we've earned one." Pip would have preferred to leave sooner than a half-hour, but he knew better than to over-stress his men.

_And there's Seras too, he thought_. She could use some time to recover. _Damn though, how could a monster like her still be so human?

* * *

_

A loud bang echoed down the street, drowning out the moans of ghouls. Pickman held up the Underdog Assault Handgun, firing into a group of ghouls that were blocking the street. The heavy rounds easily pierced through multiple ghouls with a single bullet, allowing Pickman to conserve ammunition with well-aimed shots. He and his men had never relocated the APC, leading to a long walk down the devastated streets of London.

Pickman lowered the Underdog as the ghouls formation deteriorated. He pulled out his Glock, using the handgun to take out the scattered enemies. The nine remaining mercenaries under Pickman's command fired bursts of SMG fire at the ghouls, trying to conserve as much ammo as possible.

It had taken hours to reach their destination, but the night had been merciful. They had yet to encounter the vampires of the Letztes Battalion, instead only running into the odd group of ghouls. But the number of undead under Millennium control was increasing rapidly. It would only be a matter of hours before the streets became too dangerous for movement.

They finally reached the area surrounding the Tower of London. A number of buildings were located around the fortress, providing decent cover from the sentries patrolling the walls. Pickman held up his hand, indicating a stop.

"We've finally made it," he said. "But our job will not be an easy one. The tower's been reconstructed into a modern fortress after the last incident. We don't stand a chance in a frontal assault, and I doubt they'll allow us entry just because we aren't vampires. There is an up side though. I would guess that Islands would have posted all of his men within the safety of the tower walls. That leaves the surrounding structures empty. Thus, we'll be using them for a little reconnaissance. I want you to split up and take up positions in the surrounding buildings. We're looking for any weaknesses. Sniper points, lone guards, look for anything. Report back in half-an-hour."

The mercenaries gave a quick salute, splitting up to surround the tower with observers. Pickman ran over to a building overlooking the main gate. Before entering, he took a brief look at the horizon. Even past the smoke and fire consuming the city, he could see the light of dawn approaching.

_Dawn's coming soon_, he observed. _I wonder what kind of day it will bring though, one of victory or one of defeat?

* * *

_

The insides of the Tower of London had been completely redone after the battle with Incognito. In addition to the anti-aircraft installations on the roof, the rooms themselves had been altered. Two of the main additions had been the new Round Table Conference room, and the state-of-the-art military command center. Sir Islands had argued that the tower stood in defense of the crown, and should be modified for current use. Now he was using it to lead an army in betrayal.

Islands sat in his chair in the center of the command center. He had left the other knights in order to command the coming attack. The room was buzzing with activity. Troop deployments were monitored, corrected, and coordinated from the multitude of consoles that littered the area.

"Sir Islands," reported a tactical controller. "A few of the outside sentries have been picking up suspicious movements around the tower."

"Ignore it," replied Islands uncaringly. "Probably just some stray ghouls."

"Roger that," acknowledged the controller. "Oh, and sir, we've just received word from our military forces. The Millennium jamming network has shut down. As well, we've received a report indicating that the zeppelin sent to assault Hellsing HQ has been shot down."

Islands grit his teeth. The end of the radio jamming would improve the odds of his forces triumphing over the Letztes Battalion, but he had trusted Millennium to wipe out Hellsing beforehand. He took a glance out the window, noting that a cloud of mist was moving into the city with the coming dawn.

"Send a few helicopters to finish off any survivors at Hellsing Headquarters." He ordered. "Have the troops finished organizing?"

"Yes sir, they have." Replied the controller. "Everything is ready for an assault at dawn, half-an-hour from now."

"Good," remarked Islands. "We've given these monsters the night. Now we must seize the day to crush them."

"And what of Integra Hellsing?" Asked Sir Penwood, walking into the control room. "Did she manage to escape the city?"

"No," answered Islands. ""But there was an attempt made on her by Millennium."

There was a quick gleam in Penwood's eyes. "Did they capture her?" He asked.

Islands interpreted Penwood's behavior as hopeful to be rid of Hellsing. "Unfortunately," he answered. "She was rescued by Section XIII. One of our helicopters got a good look at the group. Apparently, the crisis at the Vatican hasn't been as crippling as we'd hoped."

"Very well then." Said Penwood. "I'll return to the conference room. The others and I have pooled our resources to make this plan work, Sir Islands. We trust you to carry it out successfully."

Islands gave a nod to the knight as he left. He then took his own leave of the command center, heading for his room in the fortress. His own quarters were a converted cell in the former prison. He pulled out the room's key, unlocking the door and locking it behind him as he entered the room.

Islands walked over to a corner of room, grabbing a suitcase stored there. He carefully opened the case, revealing ten enhanced freak-chips, the same model that had been tested on former MI-5 agent Harry Anders. Millennium had sent the chips as a final gift to their allies, and Islands had ensured that the case never reached the hands of the other Round Table knights. The chips only had one purpose, and one target.

_After all_, he thought. _We need a trump card as well. And I plan on long-outliving my compatriots_. He took glance out the window as the sun began to rise, knowing that it may be the last time he could enjoy it's light properly.

A voice cut into his thoughts, followed by desperate knocking on his doors. "Sir Islands!" Came the muffled voice of an aide. "We need you in the command center!"

Sir Islands opened the door. "What is it?" He asked. "The dawn assault won't begin for another twenty minutes."

"Sir, it's the _Eagle_!" Replied the panicked aide. "It's coming up the Thames!"

"What? Impossible!" Islands broke into a run for the command center, making sure to take the briefcase with him. _Its contents may have to be used sooner than I thought,_ mused Islands.

The command center was in frenzy opposite to the calm activity of earlier. The tactical controller from before quickly ran to meet the panting Islands, prepared to brief him on the new situation.

"Sir! Moments ago, the _Eagle_ was sighted coming up the Thames. Frankly sir, I don't even know how it could move in it's present condition, let alone get all the way back to London."

"Alucard is onboard." Said Islands, keeping a calm look, although he too was shocked and disturbed by the aircraft carrier's unexpected appearance. "This has the potential to ruin everything."

"What should we do?" Asked the aide, having followed Islands back to the command center.

"How go the preparations for the attack?" Asked Islands, formulating a plan.

"All units are in position," replied the controller. "They're just performing last-minute equipment checks now."

"Skip that. We are commencing the assault now. We need to sweep the playing field before Millennium starts losing ground to Alucard. We need to establish a dominating position in the city before Hellsing can."

"Yes sir, I'll give the order now." The controller ran off to the communications console.

Islands reclaimed his seat in the center of the room. Knowing that the battle was now imminent, he checked his pocket for a remote detonator. The detonator was for an explosive planted in the Round Table Conference Room. It would allow for him to wipe out his co-conspirators as soon as the battle allowed an opportunity to do so.

Sir Islands couldn't care less about his fellow knights. If his plan to take over England had taught him anything, it was that he was more than capable of using the elements that the Round Table controlled, without the aid of his comrades. His supposed 'equals' had merely provided Islands with the means, leaving him to use their resources as he saw fit.

_I refuse to share power with those inferiors_, he thought. _Marr, Breen, Penwood, they are all completely expendable now that my plan has been put into action. Not even the smoke that clouds London's skies can stop this coming dawn. The dawn of MY age!_

Were it not for the fact that military personnel surrounded him, Islands would have laughed aloud at this point.

* * *

A/N: Well, yeah, Alucard is coming, and Islands is actually deluding himself to the point where he thinks he has a chance… I'll probably be updating more this weekend, as I finally have some time for it.

So yeah, any and all reviews are appreciated. Any comments on my writing, plot, or even the odd point are welcome. Basically, if you have something you feel needs to be said, don't hesitate to say it (or write it).


	41. Chapter 39: Arrival

A/N: Finally, the chapter of Alucard's entrance. I'd like to thank the readers for their infinite patience in this matter, I just really wanted to set everthing up perfectly before bringing him in.

Thank you Magtec for yet another positive review. As for Seras, what she saw was canon (horrible but still canon). I'll be explaining it later during a scene for the benefit of the PxS fans, and for anyone who has yet to read volume 7.

As for the enhanced freak-chips, Zaisha, I haven't really decided yet on any specifics for them. As for Penwood, I planned a scene out for him long ago. Whether it involves any sort of redemption, or simply dying in an explosion, is anyone's guess though.

* * *

Major Montana Max stood atop the fuselage of the _Hindenburg II_. He could feel the smoke rising from the fires across London as the wind blew it in his face. He could smell the blood, fear, and panic of the rapidly dwindling populace below. Best of all, he could see fire and explosions consuming the city. The destruction was on such a scale that his enhanced vision refused to focus on any one part of the scene, instead admiring the work of art below as a whole. 

The voice of Schrodinger from behind him interrupted the assault on the Major's senses that London was providing. "Zorin's dead." He said.

"Of course she is," replied the Major. "That was the only possible outcome for her. After all, she disobeyed orders and attacked. I fully expected Seras Victoria would swat her aside."

"You're giving her too much credit." Remarked Schrodinger. "She may have finished the job, but she wasn't capable of beating Zorin on her own."

"It doesn't matter." The Major said, gleefully. "Once she's on our side, I'll make sure that she becomes worthy of such praise. Oh, that reminds me. How goes the hunt for that 'Pickman' character?"

"I dunno." Answered Schrodinger frankly. "To be honest, I think the troops forgot about him. I guess they didn't particularly care about freeing that future toy of yours when they've got a city to destroy."

"That's disheartening." The Major commented, losing a bit of his enthusiasm. "Well, I'll just have to send someone to do the job now… Hmm… Should it be the Captain, or… Yes, that's it. Go get Doc!" He looked away from Schrodinger, checking a second later to confirm the cat-boy's disappearance.

_We never did quite figure out what it is that he does to travel_… Thought the Major. _Is it teleportation? Could it be some sort of dimensional manipulation? Regardless, it makes him quite the handy messenger. Quite the anomaly in our research indeed!_

The Major heard footsteps coming towards him over the howling wind. Schrodinger was leading Doc over to him. The scientist was unused to the harsher conditions atop the airship, preferring to avoid the physical activities that, as a vampire, he was more than capable of.

"Is it ready?" Asked the Major, turning to face the Doc. "I've already thought up an assignment for our new 'recruit'."

"Well," answered the Doc. "We haven't had much in the way of time. I've worked all night on it, but the work was still shoddily completed."

"Regardless, is it ready?" Asked the Major, almost growing impatient with the Doc's insistence that his work be perfect.

"Yes, yes it is." Answered the Doc. "Although hastily done, it was still a complete success. The transformation was flawless, and the seals should be completely unbreakable."

"Good… We'll soon see how your work fares in the field. Send 'him' up here, the Captain as well."

All of a sudden, the sound of helicopter blades cut through the dwindling night. The British Military was moving in, full-force. _Fifteen minutes early_, observed the Major. _Something must have spooked Islands to launch before he had the full advantage of dawn. Not that it really matters. Such barriers as light can be easily surpassed._

A force of military helicopters five squadrons strong, all pulled away from RAF bases before the attack, charged at the zeppelin force hovering above London. The zeppelins were all unarmed, leaving them easy prey for the aircraft. Three squadrons rushed towards the _Hindenburg II_, while the two remaining squadrons divided to attack the pair of smaller zeppelins spread across the city.

Machine guns and missile fire tore into the _Hindenburg II_, sending the Doc sprawling to the ground from the shock of explosions. The zeppelin was far from flimsy though, being reinforced by special light armour of Millennium design. The head-on attack by the helicopters was not strong enough to pierce the fuselage and bring down the massive airship.

The Major cared little for the intrusion. He was still in control of the situation. This war was his musical performance, a masterpiece to display to the entire world. Everyone, from the innocent citizens to his own comrades, were just instruments in his orchestra. He of course, was the conductor. There were no wild cards. Everything moved with his consent. Off-handedly, he thumbed a radio transmitter on his coat.

"All units," he addressed calmly, despite the explosions echoing in the background. "Equip the protective, anti-ultraviolet gear." The Letztes Battalion moved to comply with the order, donning masks designed to block the sun's harmful rays.

The Doc stood up slowly, regaining his balance after the first wave of attacks. "Sturmbannfuhrer!" He shouted over the wind and crackling of fires across the surface the zeppelin's surface. "Even with the light-armour, we cannot take this kind of beating much longer! What's more, the helicopters are splitting up to surround this vessel! We need to get inside now, before we become targets as well!"

The Major did not respond to the shouting, absorbed in the destruction around him. A helicopter flew past them, turning to shine a spotlight down on the Major. The pilot took a moment to confirm the identity of his target, seeing as how the zeppelin had no means of defending itself.

"It's him!" Shouted the pilot over his radio. "I have the enemy leader in my sights!"

A tactical controller in the Tower of London acknowledged over the radio. "Eliminate the target, this could end things a lot sooner than we'd hoped."

The pilot complied, bringing his thumbs down on the triggers to unleash a flood of machinegun rounds on the Major. The weapons refused to fire however. The pilot checked the diagnostic systems, only to see that the weapons had been sliced cleanly off of the helicopter. More systems and components began to show as off-line, lighting the diagnostics board red. The pilot took a glance behind him, only to see a quick flash flow across the middle of his helicopter, followed by it splitting in two. The fuel cells detonated moments later, shattering the vehicle in an explosion.

The explosion drew the Major's attention to what had just transpired. He turned to face his subordinates, noting two new arrivals. The first was the Captain, intimidating, yet not involved in the beautiful destruction that had befallen the helicopter moments ago. The second was the former servant of Integra Hellsing. Walter Dornez, the Angel of Death, had been modified to serve Millennium. He stood beside the Captain, youthful in his newfound power, and dressed in a darker variant of his former butler attire.

"Excellent!" Laughed the Major. "I knew that one day, one way or another, the Angel of Death would join us. Always so perfect, weren't you Angel? You are the perfect soldier, the perfect servant. Indeed, Sir Arthur Hellsing really had the Perfect Courtier in mind when he had you trained. But now, that perfect courtier has been turned against his masters, even if it wasn't willingly. Doc, you've done a magnificent job with him!"

The Doc took a quick bow in reaction to the praise. "See," he said, glaring at Schrodinger. "Some of us have been doing real work while you've been gallivanting about, running simple errands." The cat-boy pouted in response.

The Major ignored the Doc's childish reprimand of his favourite pet. "Now," he said, addressing Walter. "It's time for the Angel of Death to go to work, isn't it?"

Walter gave a silent nod, disappearing in a flash of movement. The Millennium butler dashed across the top of the zeppelin, a trail of wires in his wake. Most of the helicopters never knew what hit them as Walter tore through them with his weapon, cleaving through the aircraft as if they were nothing.

After taking about a squadron's worth of casualties, the commanding officer of the helicopter wing ordered a withdrawal from the _Hindenburg II_. Walter followed them, jumping off of the zeppelin to chase the retreating force. With inhuman strength and skill he used his wires to balance and support himself, creating an illusion of flight. Wires shot out at the helicopters, wrapping around them. Walter then pulled against the wires, launching himself upwards before slicing through vital components in the machines.

Within minutes, the two retreating squadrons had been destroyed. Walter used the final victims to launch himself towards the sister ships of the _Hindenburg II_, sailing across the kilometres-long void above London. Landing atop the _Graf Spee II_, he readied his wires to finish off the squadron around it. Within moments, the attacking squadron was wiped out. Again, he used the final targets to propel himself towards the _Heinz Guderian_, wiping out the forces around it as well, before launching himself back towards the _Hindenburg II_.

The Major clapped in amusement as the butler landed before him, having fulfilled the desires of his new master. "Stupendous!" He shouted, laughing aloud. "Such power! This is what I was hoping for when we began this grand war!"

Meanwhile, a recon officer came up from the lower decks, running towards the Major, wearing a mask to protect him from the dawn. "Sturmbannfuhrer!" Shouted the officer, voice muffled by the mask. "He's coming! Alucard is coming! The _Eagle_ was just spotted coming up the Thames!"

"Good!" Replied the Major. "I have little doubt now that we are prepared to face him. Besides, it was rather callous of us to just leave him out in the middle of the Atlantic. All of the actors are on stage now. And nothing can stop this coming battle. Win or lose, the world will be forever changed by our actions today!"

* * *

None of the commanding Millennium vampires were fazed by the sunlight. Not even the Major, or Doc, two of the non-combatants in Letztes Battalion. Below them, thousands of British Military soldiers, led by five two hundred man special units, poured into the city. Millions of ghouls waited for them, along with nearly a thousand elite vampire soldiers. The Iscariots escorted Integra Hellsing, slowly approaching the front lines of the coming battle in their quest to reach Hellsing reinforcements. 

Almost unnoticed in the chaos, the darkened, burnt-out form of the HMS _Eagle_ struck shore. Alucard stepped off of the ship that had faithfully taken him back to his city, and master. His influence gone, the ship reverted to it's former state, sinking into the river as he stepped ashore.

"I've been waiting so long." Said Alucard. "It's taken fifty-five years, but you failed to disappoint me Major. Finally! Such death, such destruction! It's perfect! Completely and totally perfect! I really must hand it to you, you couldn't have created a better burial ground for yourself!"

Alucard laughed, a sound that carried across the city, sending a chill down Alexander Anderson's spine, as well as alerting every combatant in the city that, no matter their current foes or engagements, a true force of darkness had arrived to lay claim on London, City of the Dead.

* * *

A/N: Well, Alucard has finally arrived! Which means that the long road to the conclusion of the battle for London can finally begin. Oh yeah, that 'perfect courtier' remark is a reference to Baldasare Castiglione, "The Perfect Courtier", a work that, when I read it, immediately reminded me of Walter.

As usual, I would really appreciate reviews!


	42. Chapter 40: Liberation

Author's Note: Well, Alucard's time has finally arrived, as is the time for Integra's choice (well, one of them at least).

Zaisha, I don't know how, but you got me on that Sturmbannfuhrer line. In fact, until I confirm that, I'm not going to mess around with the Major's German rank. I just figured it was correct, as I'd seen it in two separate Hellsing translations (note: must learn German). But yeah, the nit picking is still as entertaining as ever!

Magtec, high praise indeed! I hope I can keep this up. But the updating thing was pretty spur-of-the-moment. Thankfully, despite not having much time to type, I get plenty of time to write. Which is like typing, except with no spell check, or speed, or posting…

Lennox, yeah, I sorta condemned Walter as per canon… But really, even as a Millennium vampire, he's still cool, I was hoping to emphasize that with the chopper scene.

* * *

Alucard stepped off the _Eagle_, abandoning it to sink into the Thames without his influence. He took a moment to absorb the death and destruction around him. He knew automatically that Integra was still alive in this hell. As was the troublesome paladin Anderson. He took a quick glance at the sky, noticing the dawn illuminating the trio of zeppelins hovering above the city.

_They can wait_, thought Alucard. _Integra is my priority right now. If she dies…_ Alucard discontinued that line of thought, choosing instead to act. He sprung into action, surprisingly spry after his ocean voyage. He feasted on the death around him, bounding across the rooftops through fire and smoke.

It took him only a few minutes to reach the Iscariot formation. The paladins were spread out around the street, Anderson stood in front of Integra in the center. Alucard leapt off the roof he was observing from, bullets trailing him as the Iscariots reacted to his presence.

Anderson shouted, "Stop!" Allowing Alucard to land in front of Integra. The paladins ceased fire, still keeping their weapons trained on Alucard. The vampire ignored them, giving a light bow to Integra.

"I have returned, my master." Said Alucard smoothly.

Integra scoffed. "It certainly took you long enough."

"Indeed, but I have arrived just in time, have I not?" Countered Alucard enigmatically.

"Just in time for what?" Questioned Integra. Thinking that 'just in time' would have been before the first V1 struck London.

"Just in time to end this battle." Answered Alucard simply. "Now, my master, give me an order! Release my power! Unleash me on the pathetic fools that seek to oppose you!"

Integra was almost taken aback by her servant's blood lust, never having seen him so fired up before. Anderson stood aside, knowing that the situation called for a little patience before he could take the nosferatu's head. Alucard was required, in accordance to Bishop Maxwell's plan, to destroy Millennium. Anderson would finish off the monster, or wipe out the remnants of Millennium, depending on which side won the battle.

"Alucard," Integra addressed. "Release Control Art Restriction System to level 1. Destroy Millennium."

"No, no, no," said Alucard disapprovingly. "This isn't the Tower of London again. Level one is fine for a single enemy, or even a group of enemies, but this time it's different. All of your opponents are arrayed before you. Millennium, Iscariot, the traitors of Britain, with but a single command you could purify this realm! Do it! Release level zero! Purge this city with unholy fire!"

Integra kept her face a mask, but inside she was reeling. _Level zero?_ She thought. _I've never had to… Even my father only used it once! And he sealed Alucard away after it, vowing to purge the experience from his memory. But… do I have a choice? Is there any other way to save this land?_ She spent a few moments running through potential scenarios to win this war. But she only saw one option that allowed for the total destruction of her country's foes. It seemed to be the only fitting punishment for the men and monsters responsible for the horrific events that had befallen London.

"Alucard," she addressed again, intent on correcting her previous mistake. "Release Control Art-"

"No!" Shouted Anderson, interrupting the power release. Maxwell's plan of using Alucard against Millennium was in danger of backfiring. He reached into his coat, grabbing a handful of bayonets. Alucard simply smiled as Anderson threw the holy projectiles at the unholy monster with all the strength he could muster.

Alucard stood his ground, knowing that he couldn't dodge with Integra standing behind him. Instead, he drew his guns with inhuman speed, firing his Jackal just as the blades left Anderson's hand. The round intercepted the tight formation of thrown bayonets at a point almost exactly between the two. The heavy round shattered the formation of bayonets, shattering one and scattering the others in the explosion of holy steel. One bayonet continued towards Alucard however, only to be intercepted by a Casull round. The lighter bullet couldn't pierce the bayonet, instead redirecting it into striking the ground before Alucard.

"Is that all you're capable of?" Mocked Alucard. Integra took a step away from her servant, knowing that the other armed Iscariots were not going to be taking this lightly.

Heinkel, seeing Anderson fail to kill Alucard, quickly began firing at the monster. The other Iscariots joined in, letting loose a torrent of ammunition upon the vampire. Rather than take the barrage of silver, Alucard spun out of the way of the initial volley. He turned to face Integra. Before the leader of Hellsing could say a word, Alucard had grabbed her by the arm and had wrapped his coat around them.

The Iscariots kept firing, not caring about Integra's safety. The coat became riddled with bullets within a few moments. However, instead of dropping to the ground with the satisfying thump of dead bodies, the coat simply fell, no longer supported by its occupants. Alucard had escaped, and had taken the key to his power with him.

"Father Anderson, what should we do?" Asked Heinkel, having some idea as to what was about to be unleashed.

"It's simple," answered Anderson. "We find that hell-hound Alucard, and destroy him."

"I meant, how?" Corrected Heinkel.

Anderson shook his head, feeling the comforting weight of the package in his coat. "I will fight him." He explained. "And one way or another, God's will shall be triumphant in this battle." He neglected to explain the consequences though, of using an item of such power as he carried with him.

* * *

Integra and Alucard stood in Trafalgar Square. The archway was gone, having been completely destroyed between the V1 attacks and the terrorist actions of the SAS vampires during their attempt on the Queen. Alucard took a moment to regenerate his coat, allowing it to unravel from his shoulders down. Integra was unfazed, having seen and experienced Alucard's method of transportation before.

"Alucard," she said simply, completely calm despite having just been attacked by the Iscariots. "Release Control Art Restriction System to level zero. Your master Hellsing gives you temporary free reign over your abilities."

Alucard let out a quick laugh. "I knew that you would see things my way. As your servant, I would assure you that when I am finished, Millennium will be no more. As for Iscariot, and the Round Table, when I am done, the only human to be left standing in this city shall be you. Is this what you want?"

Integra nodded, mentally begging for the forgiveness of the soldiers that she had sent to the Tower of London. _If they are still alive_, she thought. _ Alucard will likely finish them. I am truly sorry, but Alucard's power is the only sure-fire of ending this battle once and for all. Commander Pickman, I am grateful that you had survived and were able to keep my organization alive, but perhaps it would have been better if there were no Hellsing survivors in that battle. Instead, you turned what should have been expendable mercenaries into knights of Hellsing. You allowed me to condemn yet another group of worthy men to deaths that shall be on my hands_.

"If you would like, I could always clean that blood away," said Alucard, extending his tongue for a moment. "Just remember that I offered you power, the power to never have to condemn the lives of your men again. That offer, of course, remains open, and always will."

"Just go," said Integra, bitterly. "Before I change my mind."

"Ah, but I'm not going anywhere at the moment." Replied Alucard, looking up at the sky despite the rising sun.

"What do you mean?" Integra asked, already regretting her decision.

"Observe," said Alucard confidently. "Observe the power that you have unknowingly controlled all these years!" The seals on his gloves glowed a brilliant red. He stretched out his arms, a shadowy portal appearing in the pavement before him. He reached into it, dragging out a large black object that stood taller than he. The darkness oozed off of it, revealing the shape of Alucard's coffin.

"What on Earth are you going to do with that?" Asked Integra. By her knowledge, Alucard had no other use for his coffin but sleep.

"This," he said, running his hand over the black surface. "Is my last domain. It is all that remains of my lands, my wealth, my castle, and my title. I protect in fiercely because, one could say, it houses my very soul. Not an inaccurate statement really, just horribly off-scale."

"What do you mean?"

"This is my domain. As fitting for such value, it has an army to protect it. An army bound within me, within Hellsing's seal. With my release, it is released as well."

"And you plan to use it to destroy my enemies?"

"Exactly." With that, Alucard opened the lid of the coffin. At first, nothing happened. However, within moments, a wisp of darkness began to pour from it. That wisp soon became a torrent of darkness, flooding the skies above. The darkness drowned out the smoke from London, it covered the few empty patches of sky, and most importantly, it blotted out the sun.

A true darkness, purer than night, had swept over the city. Within moments, rain began to pour from the darkness above in a perversion of nature's way. Integra held out her hand, catching a few droplets.

_Blood_, she observed. _And to think that this is only the beginning_…

* * *

A/N: Whew, another chapter done… Alucard is now back, and firmly established in the coming battle. It most certainly took me long enough.

Well, if you've got a moment, please drop me a review. Whether you love it or hate it, I enjoy the feedback.


	43. Chapter 41: Army of Darkness

Author's Note: Well, I'm just taking a few hours off from essay research, so I figured I'd write this up. However, it'll probably be the last update until the weekend. Man, such an awful time to be writing critical chapters! But still, it makes a decent pastime.

Darthjag; thank you yet again. I don't really know why more people haven't seen the manga and anime universes as blend-able. But I do think you're giving me a bit too much credit on the concept. It really wasn't all that difficult to set up.

Magtec; thanks, that had to be the best one word review I have ever received. I was hoping you'd like the Alucard scenes, much more of him to come.

Zaisha, ah yes, the mysteries of the Control Art Restriction System are ceaseless. I'm explaining a bit more about it in this chapter, including an explanation as to why Integra doesn't have much influence over Alucard's orders in this case. And Pickman and Pip, they can take care of themselves, at least against the generics of Alucard's army.

Zero; thank you for the encouragement. I must admit; the Maxwell scene was a bit edgy in my eyes. It's tough to 180-degree turn a character like that and I wanted to keep it justified.

* * *

Pickman walked back out onto the street, checking the sky for the source of the sudden darkness that had enveloped the promising dawn. Even with the darkness though, London was still illuminated by thousands of fires burning strongly throughout the city. 

_But that light doesn't weaken vampires_, though Pickman bitterly, _quite the opposite in fact. What the hell could possibly cause this?_

The rain began moments later, pouring blood down onto the streets below. Pickman ran back to the doorway's cover, dripping in the foul liquid. Although shocked and disturbed by the shower, he couldn't help but notice that the blood on his uniform was dripping away unnaturally quickly, not even staining the material in it's rush to escape into the street.

A puddle began to form in the middle of the street. Pickman shook his head in disbelief when he realized that it was forming on an incline in the street. Blood began to flow from all directions towards the new puddle, yet it's size and depth refused to increase. Pickman leveled his Underdog at it, ready for anything.

A hand burst out of the puddle, betraying Pickman's illusions of its depth. A second soon followed, both now grasping at the street outside of the puddle-turned-portal. Within a few seconds, the upper-half of a ghoul was pulling itself free from the depths. It crawled forwards; dragging it's lower half out of the puddle before standing.

Seeing as how it was unarmed, and Pickman was curious about how it had appeared, he took a moment to examine the ghoul. It looked remarkably human, showing little decay, yet the eyes still showed a vacancy of life. It was a young woman, in her twenties likely, with darker skin and blond hair, which Pickman could still identify despite it being partially discolored. It wore a familiar outfit, one that Pickman had seen on a female news anchor from a local London station. From there, he quickly recognized the woman's identity from an old Hellsing case file.

_Kim Susslin?_ He thought_. But Alucard killed her._ _How could she be…? Oh no…_ He was beginning to understand what was going on.

Kim Susslin had been a minor enemy of Hellsing. She had been involved in an illegal vampire snuff-film ring. Not only were freak-chipped vampires showcased in the films, but two former Hellsing captains had also been involved. Kim's unrepentant attitude had led to her death at Alucard's fangs, and the pair of traitorous Hellsing captains had proved useless in the investigation. Alexander Anderson had killed Captain Gareth prior to the discovery, and his replacement, Captain Steadler, was apparently too much of a newcomer to the ring to know much about the upper-ranks. At the time, it had been the closest that Hellsing had been to discovering the elusive origin of the freak-chip, and the investigation's failure had led to the much-riskier MI-5 attempt to infiltrate the Valentine Brothers, setting off a devastating chain of events for Hellsing.

Alucard had killed this woman; of that there was no doubt. The fact that she now stood before Pickman as a soulless ghoul meant that there could only be one explanation for her existence.

_Alucard's back_, he realized. _What's more, if this is any indication, he's using an unprecedented amount of power. Probably more than he could achieve under level one restriction. Which means Integra must have given him free reign… Oh that is not good, not good at all…_

Pickman had studied the Control Art Restriction System extensively while researching a method to bind Seras. Level zero existed outside of the seal's limitations, effectively freeing the vampire to use its full range of abilities. What's more, the vampire in question would be freed from the enslaving power of the seal, free to disobey any order, and cause any destruction with the exception of killing it's master.

_That means that Alucard, knowing him, will probably want to turn the entire surviving populace of London into a meal while he handles Millennium. The ghouls are a troubling issue as well. I've never seen them appear in this manner. It's as if Alucard is deliberately spreading them out, probably to establish a network of observers for a main army_. Pickman wasn't about to underestimate the number of people Alucard had killed over the centuries, and many of them had likely been drained of blood while he was at it. Though the fact that he could create ghouls using only the captured blood of these people was a shocking testament to his power.

Pickman left the safety of the doorway, casually shooting the former reporter as he walked into the open. Without as much as a groan, she fell to the ground as a pile of ash. He checked the darkened sky, trying to find areas where the blood was falling in greater amounts in an attempt to locate the main staging ground, but couldn't pinpoint anything in the downpour.

He took a look at his watch; it had been just over a half-hour since he had ordered the recon. He walked back to the structure, seeing little point in staying out in the rain. He kept an eye out for any more ghouls, waiting for the nine remaining mercenaries under his command to return.

_If nothing else_, he thought._ There's still the mission. If we can manage to take control of the military forces, we could order a withdrawal and hopefully spare them from Alucard's wrath. The Round Table, of course, will still be executed as traitors, but we can handle them_.

He couldn't help but acknowledge though, that a rising army of the undead would certainly make attacking the Tower of London easier for a small unit.

* * *

Integra watched as blood poured over Trafalgar Square. The open area was ideal for Alucard to arrange his 'army'. A lake of blood was quickly forming in the center of the square, hundreds of ghouls rising from it. 

Integra knew that Alucard had killed thousands of people during his five centuries of life and un-life, but actually seeing all of these victims was something she was unprepared for. A full army was rising from the bloody lake. Medieval infantry, likely victims of his former rule over Wallachia, rose from the depths. Following them were Turkish soldiers, and even cavalry.

The quality of Alucard's army improved as it ran through the course of history. The infantry and weapons evolved, though Integra was satisfied to see that Alucard's killings had been considerably slowed down with his binding, seeing only a few soldiers from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The Second World War however, had given Alucard numerous opportunities to feed on Nazi soldiers. Hundreds of them rose from the rain of blood, wielding equipment similar to that of the Letztes Battalion.

Finally, Integra was shocked to see the bodies of Hellsing soldiers beginning to rise. A full force of troops, over one hundred men strong, rose from a period which she could only guess as the fiftees, and Integra suddenly understood that something horrible must have happened to make her father seal Alucard away.

_Was that the last result of unleashing his full power_? She pondered, knowing that with her decision, that group of Hellsing soldiers wouldn't be the last of Alucard's victims in her family's organization_. I wish there was some other way to guarantee our security, but there is not. Alucard's full power has always been a doomsday button, and I have pressed it willingly. He won't stop until everything in this city, with my exception, is dead_.

Integra sighed, thinking that the last of Alucard's victims had risen. She was wrong however, when a modern force of Hellsing soldiers began to rise. They were the men that Alucard had fed upon at the Tower of London, using their blood to revive him despite never having to attack them himself. She recognized so many faces in the dozens that died in that battle. Captain Gamble, Captain Fox, and even Commander Fargason rose from the dead, a soulless ghoul.

She recoiled at the sight, shielding her eyes from the dead gazes of the men that she had failed. She didn't even notice Alucard's Millennium victims begin to rise, the vampires Luke Valentine, Tubalcaine Alhambra, and the huntress, Rip Van Winkle, stood before Alucard as his most powerful acquisitions.

"Enjoying a reunion with a few old friends?" Came the mocking voice of Alucard, shaking Integra from her stupor.

"You… I never knew that you were such a monster…" Integra sputtered, overwhelmed with regret. Alucard's actions had gone beyond murder; he held the very souls of so many, carrying them for entire centuries.

"I suppose you would have to find that out sooner or later," said Alucard. "But this really makes no difference. Where I get my power is not something you should be concerned with."

"That's nonsense," Integra countered, becoming fueled with righteous fury. "A religious order being fueled by the souls of their own comrades, and you call that 'none of my business'?"

"Truly," countered Alucard, trying to be diplomatic for his own reasons. "I am not part of your organization. Your previous statement does not apply to me."

He continued, a grin appearing on his face as he brought up a new point to Integra. "I belong to a world that has transcended your human mortality, an existence that could care less for your 'blasphemies'. I've seen your thoughts. You envy me for that existence. You needed no convincing to set me free, only a nudge in the right direction. That's because, deep down, you don't care about your men, about humanity! You wanted to set loose an Armageddon to purify this realm! You want to be freed from the pitiful obligations a pitiful people imposed upon you! They are beneath you, my countess, my master."

Integra's face twisted. "You have no right to presume anything about me! I am defined by actions, not thoughts!"

"Indeed," replied Alucard, knowing that he had her. "Your loyalty to that duty is what puts you above them. That fire and spirit makes you what you are. Don't worry; I have no intention of taking that away from you. You needn't abandon your family's mission, not yet."

"I promised Her Majesty that I would defeat her enemies." Said Integra, building her resolution, yet starting to lose her role in the insanity around her. "I cannot die until I've accomplished this."

"Indeed, I myself intend to keep that promise as well." Said Alucard, gesturing to the army that he had assembled. "Her enemies shall be destroyed, but so shall her kingdom. We shall take hold of this shattered city, make it ours, all you have to do is accept my offer. Accept once you've fulfilled your duty to Queen and Country. You owe these ungrateful masses nothing else."

"Alucard, just… just do what you have to do…" Ordered Integra, fearing the power that she had unleashed. _I shall seal him when this is done_, she thought_. I've never truly understood him before now. I always knew he wanted me, but this… this goes too far. My men, he'll kill them. If for no other reason than to sever my ties with humanity, they shall die. My family, would I be betraying them? If I 'died' a hero in this final battle, would it desecrate their memories? All I can do for now is my duty. The rest shall be determined in time_.

Alucard gave formal bow, turning from his master to address his troops. He selected his three 'generals', the trio of Millennium vampires. Rip Van Winkle would take the Tower of London, commanding the former Hellsing forces under Alucard's command. Tubalcaine Alhambra would be a suitable opponent for Iscariot, taking an assorted detachment of troops to counter their intrusion in his city. Finally, Luke Valentine would take the former Nazi soldiers, in addition to a large portion of Alucard's main forces, and strike into the heart of the battle between the British Military and Millennium.

The three vampires, drained of life, or rather un-life, gave a salute to their master. Within moments, the bulk of Alucard's army was mobilized, moving out to their respective battlefields. Alucard anticipated some failures in these initial deployments. There were far too many wild cards out in this city to assure him of victory yet. Anderson, Pickman, Pip, Seras, the Major, and Captain Hans Gunsche to name most of his greatest potential foes. Some of them would probably even require his personal attention. There may even be more potential enemies to find in this battlefield from hell.

Yet Alucard wanted to face these people in the field of battle, to temper them with his slaves, only to face a more resolute opponent in single combat. It was a promising prospect, and he had great faith in those wild cards to excel in battle against his legions.

_After all_, he thought. _This is a once in a lifetime battle. It would be such a pity if it weren't a good one_.

* * *

A/N: Well, Integra has almost completely lost her control over Alucard, mind you; she shouldn't be counted out yet. As for everyone else, well, the true forces of darkness await. Humanity, however, should also not be counted out yet, and Millennium still has several tricks up their sleeves, including Dark-Walter. There is plenty more to come in this story, especially now that the divisions in the battlefield have been set up. 

Well, drop me a review any time. They're awesome motivation.


	44. Chapter 42: Motivation

A/N: Well, Alucard has summoned up his legions of the undead. Which means that, with the numerous sides scattered around, that there is plenty of action to be had. I just can't decide where to start first!

Darthjag, whoa! I mean it; that was my reaction at seeing the Captain. Mind you, I sorta beat you to that one, downloading a raw scan version of Hellsing: The Dawn, chapter 5, earlier Wednesday afternoon, but still, I appreciate the gesture. It's good to know that the readers are willing to draw my attention to stuff like that. And yeah, seeing it just tossed all of my previous assumptions about the Captain out the window! I mean, I figured he was strong, probably good with that Mauser too, but a real werewolf? Damn, that was a mind-bleep (trying not to abuse language).

Ah yes, Lennox. With the exceptions of Pip and Seras, not one person who will be involved in this battle will particularly care for Pickman's survival. As for Alucard's reasons for putting two ordinary humans on 'the list': Pickman showed remarkable tenacity at the Tower of London, and even sealed Alucard's fledgling, something that, in addition to stuff that may be revealed later, has earned the vampire's attention. As for Pip, let's just say that Alucard has been keeping an eye on him, and believes that he can live up to his expectations (also to be revealed later, perhaps).

Zaisha, well, the Major will definitely be pleased to see Alucard back. By now, he's somehow gotten the idea in his head that he can take on our favorite monster. Well, no matter who wins, they're in for a hell of a battle. Which is something the Major would appreciate regardless.

Magtec, well, it's good to know that my style works. But the army idea is canon; I'm just taking it to another level, and introducing it uniquely. I always thought that the army idea had potential, rather than being a quick device to kill off the Ninth Crusade, and harass Anderson (I haven't really read volume 8, so I'm assuming everything I do from now on is done relatively uniquely).

Man, that was a lot of responding. Well, without further ado, the story!

* * *

The Major kept his vigil atop the _Hindenburg II_, observing the unnatural darkness and subsequent rain of blood with glee. Alucard's return had pleased him greatly. The momentum that he had worked up in attacking London would soon be used to strike his final remaining enemy from the days long past. This battle had become the reason for his very existence. There would be so few loose ends to tie up upon its completion, and with Alucard's full power waiting to be conquered; there would be one less. 

_Nothing ever changes, does it, my friendly enemy?_ He reminisced. _Once again, we face each other in battle, the only difference being that it's on your ground this time. Once again you show me the raw insanity that is your true power, this time to use it in offense, rather than a last-ditch defense of your master. If only I had realized how little would have changed since our last confrontation in South America, fifty years ago_…

A puddle of blood formed on the fuselage, a single ghoul crawling out of it. The Major's face changed from amusement to a hint of disgust when he saw the black uniform of the SS and a familiar face on the ghoul.

"Brigadefuhrer Meyer?" He whispered, recognizing an old comrade from the SS. Kurt 'Panzer' Meyer was amongst the most skilled field commanders on the western front during the Invasion of Normandy. He had joined the Major in his retreat from Europe, leaving a decoy behind to face war crimes charges in his stead. He was a valued partner in the Millennium project, yet had died in South America, a victim of Alucard's power. The Major had incorrectly thought him to be permanently at rest.

"Excellent choice of messengers, Alucard." Remarked the Major, good humor restored. "Good of you to confirm your presence beyond a shadow of a doubt, but you underestimate us." The ghoul merely groaned in response.

"Humph, not even going to respond eh?" Said the Major. "Well, perhaps this will provoke some sort of reaction from you." He snapped his fingers. "Butler! Put this comrade of ours to rest." A set of wires fell around Meyer's head, separating it from his body moments later. The head spun in the air, the last image it saw before dissolving into dust was Walter's passive face.

"You're not the only one who can turn friends into enemies." Said the Major smugly, despite having lost his audience. "I'm absolutely certain that you're furious to know that you missed your opportunity to turn the Angel of Death. You'll be even more furious when he becomes a key instrument in your destruction." He let out a laugh before turning to salute Meyer's dissolving corpse. "You were a capable soldier. I'm certain that we will meet again in Valhalla. Perhaps Alucard would care to join us when that time comes?"

"Sir!" Came the voice of an observation officer, running onto the fuselage. "All 850 remaining soldiers are arrayed to face the British Army. We've diverted almost half-a-million ghouls to assist as well."

"Very well, proceed." Said the Major. "But be prepared to shift our forces at any time. Alucard has unleashed an army down there, and I want our troops to be prepared to meet it if he decides to interfere."

He turned to the silent figure on his right. "Captain," he addressed. "Back up the troops. If Alucard shows up, you can at least hold him off long enough for suitable reinforcements to arrive."

The Captain silently obeyed, leaping off the zeppelin to the streets below.

"This is good." Said the Major. "Better than I dared to hope! Finally, everything is coming to a head. Events that we set in motion fifty years ago are finally showing results!"

The Major stood atop the zeppelin, his enhanced vision allowing him to properly observe the conflict below. The Angel of Death, now reduced to the 'Butler', stood passively beside him.

* * *

Alucard stood beside Integra, observing his troops progress. The shock of seeing Walter through one of his ghouls quickly passed. The appearance of a vampiric Angel of Death however, had kindled the need for better troops, and Alucard knew just how to forge them. He decided to track down his generals, and give them an offer that would make them much more capable against the coming enemies. After all, motivated soldiers fought much harder than soulless drones. 

He went after Luke Valentine first, restoring the freak-vampire his memory and soul. The Valentine brother stopped in his tracks, confused as to why he was leading an army of ghouls. Alucard's voice cut into his thoughts moments later.

_I'm going to make you an offer_, he said. _You have no real body, no real soul. You have lost everything to me. However, I'm giving you a chance to earn your freedom from me. Destroy the forces of both Millennium and the British Army. Once you do, I'll return your flesh and soul. In fact, I'll even make you a real vampire. I have to admit that you did impress me slightly when we fought, though you were horrendously misinformed about me_.

The Valentine brother; knowing that Alucard's words were true, decided to accept, gaining full control over his former abilities. He knew how to use them, and had a very good reason to use them. Whether it was his own will motivating him, or Alucard's control, he knew what he had to do to reclaim his freedom.

Tubalcaine Alhambra was next. Alucard restored the Millennium vampire, giving him the offer. _You lost to me_, came Alucard's voice. _But I'm willing to let you pay off this debt. Kill Alexander Anderson and his Iscariots. You succeeded in giving me a good fight, and this is your reward_. The gambler had known the consequences of losing to Alucard, and was eager to escape the finality of death and enslavement, accepting instantly.

Rip Van Winkle was just as easy to convince. Alucard's voice came to her. _Samiel has come for you, huntress, and he has taken you to hell. However, perhaps a new deal could be forged with the devil of the hunt. I want you to pay a visit to the Tower of London. Kill the members of the Round Table Conference, traitors to my master. In addition, hunt down Commander Pickman of Hellsing. My fledgling has had enough time under seal, and I can't reclaim her if Pickman still lives_. Rip couldn't care less about Alucard's reasons, only the rewards that he was offering. She accepted, giving Alucard the third of his new willing servants.

"It will begin soon." He said aloud, causing Integra to turn towards him. She didn't question the statement though; she knew what it meant.

* * *

A twenty-man team worked their way down the streets of London. They were part of the British Military deployment, members of the thousand-man anti-vampire division that were to spearhead the attack. 

The captain kept his Underdog Assault Handgun pointed forwards, while four others kept watch for rooftop ambushes. The lines of the battlefield had become scattered with the destruction of the aerial forces. They had no way of knowing that they had worked their way around the assembled Millennium forces, and were moving deeper into the city than any other unit.

"Command, this is squad B7, our position is unconfirmed." Silence answered the captain, but he continued regardless. "Most of the street signs have been destroyed, making navigation difficult, and we have yet to engage the enemy in battle. Requesting orders."

Movement suddenly caught his attention. A white-suited man, presumably a vampire, rounded the corner ahead, a hellish army of ghouls behind him. The captain, figuring that it was an enemy force, quickly opened fire on them. His unit began firing immediately after. The captain's Underdog rounds tore thorough a few of the ghouls, while the lesser rifle fire simply caused them to recoil. He aimed a shot at the white-suited leader, only to see the vampire disappear to the side, dodging the round as he fired.

The white-suited vampire leapt forwards, a ponytail of blond hair trailing behind him, bouncing between the two sides of the street as he closed the distance between he and the military unit. The ghoul army opened fire as well, smoke filling their side of the battlefield as they fired off primitive muskets and rifles. The white-suited vampire stopped right in front of the unit captain, batting the Underdog away from the man's shaking grip. The rest of the unit was being cut down by the sheer quantity of rounds fired off from the swarm of ghouls. The captain's last sight was that of the white-suited vampire baring his fangs, and the sight of an antique pistol pointed between his eyes.

Alucard's forces had entered the battle between the military and Millennium.

* * *

A/N: Well, a quick Friday chapter. Maybe I'll write another tonight. Though, it'll be after a mid-term, so I'm not certain as to the quality of my mood by then. 

Well, please review; it's something that will never get old for me.


	45. Chapter 43: Open Warfare

A/N: Well, the large-scale battle shall occur in this chapter, meaning that Alucard will finally get some victims to impale and stick around for decoration; morbid.

Zaisha, yeah, I was going for proper context on each of the proposals. As for Pip, well, in addition to being interested in Seras, he's inherited a lot of enemies.

WillTheWatcher, thanks for the review. Yes, I do plan on tossing in a ton of fight scenes as the battles develop. The Letztes Battalion, the Iscariots, the Round Table, Hellsing, they'll all get both large-scale, and small-scale fights. And there may even be some strategic alliances made in the process. After all, enemy of my enemy…

Magtec, the idea of Alucard's undead army is completely canon indeed, but I'm working on making its contents and actions unique. I myself haven't read above volume 7, and it took a heck of a lot of scrounging around the net, and stores, for even that. As for Pickman, yeah, the odds are getting worse and worse of him surviving. After all, who wants to fight Rip Van Winkle?

Darthjag, thanks for the summary offer, although the link is rather non-existent. I have read brief summaries of what happens in volume 8, but only the gist of things, like Elena's Nail being used by Anderson, and the undead army and the like. I'm actually glad that I don't know the specifics; it keeps me from copying the actual events. Though, now that I think about it, there should be enough of a split from the original plot to keep me from doing that anyways. As well, you're welcome for the review.

Well, onto the fic!

* * *

A large number of buildings had been demolished along the outskirts of London; victims of the earlier V1 attack. One area in particular was made up of 2 square kilometers of rubble, surrounded by ruined buildings. It was here that that the bulk of the British Military force, 600 members of the special anti-vampire unit and 10,000 infantry, would make their stand. The Letztes Battalion waited on the edge of the debris-strewn field, ghouls rushing from the city to reinforce them by the thousands. 

A ruined office building in the debris field had become the headquarters of General Harwood, the field commander of the British forces. Harwood wanted to push into the city immediately in order to secure the Tower of London. He hated the idea of his superiors, the Round Table Conference, giving orders from behind enemy lines. His focus was on engaging the enemy on the outskirts of the city, tying up their main force. From there, the battle could be dragged into the city, towards the friendly fortress. Once they arrived, they could regroup with the soldiers stationed there, and make a final push at the Millennium forces. After defeating the main vampire body of the Millennium Organization, it would be a simple matter of mopping up the scattered ghouls and getting in air forces to destroy those infernal zeppelins.

The plan wasn't going well however. The advance air force had been wiped out by what seemed to be supernatural means, and the new darkness was serving to both strengthen the Millennium vampires and block radio transmissions. Without communications, the advance ground forces had been cut off, and their condition was unknown. The number of enemy ghouls had had exceeded estimations as well, taking up enough space on the battlefield to prevent maneuvering past them, and giving Millennium the opportunity to outflank the British lines with raw numbers.

_At this rate_, he thought. _It'll come down to a slugging match between the two armies. The ghouls will be simple to wipe out at range, but the more agile vampires could easily take advantage of the numbers and durability of ghouls to shield themselves in an approach. After they get close, we're finished_… Close-quarters combat with a vampire, he'd been told, was suicide.

"It can't be helped," he muttered, grabbing his microphone. With radio communications out, loudspeakers had become the most effective order-carrying method.

"All units," he addressed. "Maintain formations and fire as soon as the enemy force enters range. Snipers and artillery, you are cleared to fire immediately. We're going to be fighting these monsters head on, so we need to hit them before they can mass enough ghouls to overwhelm us." Although there were too few snipers or field artillery pieces to inflict any real damage on the enemy force, Harwood wanted to provoke them into launching an attack, giving his infantry a defensive advantage.

The snipers and artillery opened fire, hitting the ranks of ghouls from range. They did little damage though, as the ghouls were practically unlimited, and the vampires were safely hidden beyond their lines, away from sniper scopes and artillery spotters. The Millennium commanders still must have decided to counter-attack though, for the lines of ghouls surged forwards, a concentrated mass of lesser-undead, with vampires scattered throughout in groups of two or three.

Harwood shook his head as they approached, fearing what he had just provoked. But he knew that this battle was do or die, and the sooner it began, the fewer enemies he would face.

* * *

Second-Lieutenant Wittman of the Letztes Battalion gave the order, sending 850 vampires, and countless ghouls, charging at the British formation. He stood at the rear of the formation, leaving his staff and a sizable number of ghouls back near the edge of the field. 

_Stupid British_, he thought. _Did they really think that we couldn't hear that broadcast? They may think that they're baiting us into a losing battle, but they're dead wrong. Why, if lose more than ten men in this assault, I'll consider them a formidable force, capable beyond my wildest expectations_.

Wittman raised a hand to his Knight's Cross with Oak Leaves, an award that he had earned for wiping out over 150 tanks and armored vehicles during the Second World War. Although he was still a tank-driver at heart, he had extensive combat experience from the western front, and had been given fifty years to learn the infantry game. The Major had trusted him to command the ground forces in this battle, and he did not intend to disappoint.

His vampire instincts suddenly flared up, detecting the sound of an approaching artillery shell. He leapt forwards into the rear of the ghoul formation, pushing aside two as the explosive hit the ground, sending debris and shrapnel flying into the backs of the ghouls he had passed.

Wittman casually walked out of the formation, seeing the shrapnel wounds hardly hindering the nearby zombies. He rejoined his officers, intent on observing and commanding the battle from the safety of the battlefield's edge.

The Captain stood alongside Wittman, uninvolved with the charge. Although he was technically of higher rank than Wittman, in terms of importance at least, he left the junior officer to command the battle. His purpose was to prevent Alucard's interference, and he could sense the monster's presence drawing closer.

* * *

The Millennium forces were still over half a kilometer off. Harwood could see the troops from his window, watching them prepare for the order to fire. The snipers kept up the pressure, blasting through multiple ghouls with single rounds. The vampire troops however, remained as elusive as ever, hiding in the swarm of ghouls. Harwood doubted that his men would even get a look at one before they entered the range of the infantry. 

The ghouls finally entered the maximum firing distance of the lined up troops. Harwood immediately shouted, "fire!" Signaling the attack. From 500 meters, the assault rifles of the infantry weren't terribly useful. There were only scattered bursts coming from troops armed with scoped assault rifles, as well as the elite units carrying Underdog Assault Handguns. Within moments however, the ghouls had advanced to the point where the closer-ranged assault weapons could be used. Machine guns lit up the space between the two sides with tracer rounds, and flashes of gunfire illuminated the British troops.

The ghouls were stopped in their tracks, falling to pieces at a rate that prevented their forward movement. Harwood smiled at the sight, but realized that it was only a temporary advantage. His troops would have to reload soon, and the ghouls were still dangerously close to overrunning their positions.

The vampires of the Letztes Battalion finally began to reveal themselves as well, firing over the shoulders of their ghoul-shields. The firing rate of the British soldiers began to slow as they dived for cover and began to reload. The ghouls surged forwards again, staggering under rifle fire and the difficult, ruble-strewn environment.

One of the bolder vampires grabbed a ghoul by the neck, and then leapt over the charging mass. Rifle fire chased the monster, but he used the ghoul as a shield to absorb the few rounds that managed to accurately intercept his path. He landed on top of a British soldier, lashing out at his nearby comrades. The line was broken.

The gap widened as more vampires used the same strategy, sacrificing worthless ghouls for precious range. As the British forces became more concerned with self-preservation over attacking, the ghouls grew closer, beginning to flank the British lines.

Harwood knew that at this point it was all up to fortune to see which side prevailed. He drew his handgun, knowing that the enemy forces could easily reach the rear at this point.

The lines of battle degenerated into a melee. Units were left fighting back-to-back in order to hold off the ghouls, while others were mercilessly toyed with and massacred by the elite vampire troops. The blood bath was so intense that neither side noticed the dark banners beginning to surround the battlefield.

Break

Wittman smiled, seeing his plan work out brilliantly. The British military had underestimated the durability of ghouls, as well as the ruthlessness of vampires, leading to an easy breakthrough. It was only a matter of minutes before they succumbed to the countless ghouls and hundreds of vampire shock troops.

A recon officer ran towards him at a speed exceeding even vampire standards. "Lieutenant!" He shouted, at an unnecessary volume. "Our recon units have just reported contact with a new enemy force!"

"What?" Wittman hadn't expected the troops at the tower, or even Iscariot's limited forces, to intervene. "Well, who are they?"

"It's an army of ghouls!" Said the panicked officer. "They're equipment is all over the place, so we're having difficulties identifying their origins."

"It's Alucard! Damn it!" Wittman had been told to anticipate the Hellsing vampire's interference, but not in such a massive form. He turned to another officer, ready to give the orders to prepare for their arrival, but the army of the damned beat him to it.

Formations of ghouls, dressed in the military uniforms of numerous eras, marched out from all corners of the battlefield, quickly surrounding the opposing forces. Leading the assault were Millennium's lost comrades, Alucard's Nazi victims during, and after the war. Hundreds of them staggered towards their former comrades, letting loose rifle fire into the surrounding ranks of ghouls.

Wittman cursed, giving a quick order to pull back the vampire forces to deal with this new threat. The ghouls that made up the rear guard were not intended to deal with an organized attack, and Alucard's forces were tearing through them. The flow of ghoul reinforcements had been stemmed as well; Alucard's minions were likely to blame. Although Millennium still outnumbered both sides combined by at least 100-1, they're numbers were mostly made up of unarmed ghouls. Alucard's forces were armed, be it with guns or spears, and would have an easy enough time taking advantage of the pincer-attack.

Vampires bounded past Wittman, reinforcing the ghoul line, which was being massacred by the ranged weaponry of the surrounding forces. A number of vampires used the same ghoul-shield strategy to attack at close-range, but the hellish army's lines would not break. What's more, ghouls were far superior to humans in hand-to-hand combat, and between their swarms and weapons, few managed to escape after getting close.

Again, the fixed lines of battle degenerated into an all-out struggle. Charging groups of ghouls were outflanked and torn apart by Alucard's army, and the Millennium forces had become pinned between Alucard's army, and the British army, who were beginning to counter-attack with the vampire forces diverted.

Wittman drew his Luger, firing into a group of undead that had gotten through the ghoul line. The powerful, accurate shots tore into the group of Alucard's ghouls, ripping apart some ancient pikemen. A unit of former Nazis broke through the line next, spreading out across the field. Wittman paused to reload, giving the ghouls nearest to him time to advance. A scream came from behind him, and Wittman turned to see his second-in-command being impaled by spears carried by the undead army. Finally, a lone figure stepped through the line, one Wittman recognized from a visit to Millennium HQ made a few months ago.

"Luke Valentine?" He addressed. Luke merely gave a nod before charging at Wittman in a blur of movement. Wittman was no slouch though; he aimed his gun and jumped backwards, keeping distance between him and the elder Valentine. Luke then surprised him. Instead of pulling one of his antique pistols from his suit, he instead whipped out an Underdog Assault Handgun, looted from one of the British units. Just as he fired, a bullet struck the gun from the side, sending the shot astray and ruining the weapon.

Luke turned to face his new opponent, only to see the Captain barreling down on him, delivering a swift punch to his face. Luke recoiled, leaping back and summoning a group of ghouls to his aid. A dozen former Nazi troops moved between the two, armed with sub-machine guns. Immediately they opened fire on the Captain. The Millennium bodyguard took to the air, leaping over their fire. Wittman collapsed under the barrage, standing close enough to the Captain to have become a target as well.

Rounds traced the Captain as he leapt over the ghouls. He drew his Mauser with astonishing speed, firing below him at the ghouls. He landed before Luke Valentine, pausing to fire a few more rounds into the ghouls behind him. The surviving zombies were too sluggish to resist, simply taking the back-shots. The Captain reloaded, firing more shots into the ghouls, not stopping until the interfering group was nothing more than a loosely scattered collection of dust.

Luke didn't bother to interfere; he was busy trying to work out a plan to stop this juggernaut. He pulled out his two pistols, having lost the more powerful Hellsing-made Underdog. He sprung forwards, dashing towards the Captain. He came to a stop right in front of the Captain, firing both shots point-blank into his face. The Captain recoiled under the attack. Yet he stood back up, raising his head to show Luke the bloody holes in his face.

Luke tossed the pistols aside, as reloading them would take forever. He jumped back from the Captain, trying to keep distance between them. He reached into his suit for another handgun, only to realize that he hadn't been recreated with the Browning he kept in his sleeve. His eyes widened as the Captain slowly began to walk towards him. He immediately decided to retreat and re-arm. Taking a step backwards, he turned and ran away at full speed. The Captain simply aimed his Mauser and fired, sending the Valentine to the ground with a bloody hole in his knee.

Luke whimpered as the Captain calmly walked towards him. He figured that he would have stood a decent chance against Millennium's regular forces, but the presence of the Major's bodyguard hadn't crossed his mind.

_Well_, thought Luke, as the Captain lifted him. _At least this time my soul won't be held in captivity, though I'm not exactly certain of my prospects for a good afterlife_… The Captain's Mauser was pressed against his face. Luke had too little power to regenerate from the ensuing shot, falling to the ground in a pile of dust. The Captain reloaded again, walking away from the former comrade unfazed.

Wittman stood, brushing off his bullet-torn uniform. He quickly called out for a status report, only to notice that most of his staff was gone; either killed or fled.

"Well, this isn't going well, is it?" Came a voice from behind him. Wittman turned to see the Major's pet, Schrodinger, behind him.

"We've encountered a few… Unexpected problems." Answered Wittman.

"I see, or rather, we've been watching." Said Schrodinger. "The Major is absolutely giddy with the slaughter going on here, but he also doesn't want his army wiped out so soon. All forces are to retreat into the city, it'll be easier, and more fun, to fight an enemy such as this in a more confined space." Wittman agreed. It would be easier to keep his vampire troops if they weren't surrounded and outflanked, urban combat would be perfect for that job.

The Captain arrived, walking over to Schrodinger. "Oh good, you're here." Said the cat-boy. "The Major wants you to return. It appears that Alucard isn't on his way here after all."

The Captain nodded, beginning to walk back towards the city, and the zeppelins hovering above it. Wittman rallied the vampire troops, leaving the ghouls as decoys, and led them after the Captain. If anyone could lead the Millennium forces through Alucard's army, it would be the Captain.

* * *

General Harwood fired into the armored ghoul that had found it's way into his command center, emptying his handgun into the medieval monster. It dropped, dissolving into dust. Harwood wiped his forehead, trying to find a way out of the current mess. 

The situation had gone from bad, to worse, then back to bad again. The breaking of the British lines had spelt all but doom for his forces, and the appearance of the new undead army on his rear was enough to ensure it. These new undead however, also had a force attacking the rear of the Millennium lines. Harwood was confused, but wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The movement of vampire troops away from his front was enough to allow him to pull back units to repel the new ghoul army. The two forces were almost fighting back-to-back, though the center was still a zone of conflict between the two.

Finally, the new ghoul army began to thin out, moving towards the Millennium side to cut off their retreat. Harwood seized the advantage, dashing over to his microphone, and praying that communications were still up, he called for a retreat.

The center forces disengaged from Millennium, turning to face their new enemies as their old ones retreated. In a concentrated push, the British forces broke through the ill equipped and numerically inferior ghoul force. Harwood rushed out to join them, making sure to first inform the troops of their new destination: the Tower of London. His plan hadn't changed, only adapted to the situation. The city would be an excellent battlefield to fight ghouls. It would be a horrible one for dealing with the faster vampires, but they were occupied with this new enemy.

The anti-vampire units, the best-armed and trained troops, led the attack. Within minutes, the British army had shot there way through Alucard's thin ghoul formation, making a break for the city. The Millennium forces made a similar breakaway, sacrificing most of their ghouls to ensure a clean escape. Although both sides had lost numerous troops during the battle, Alucard's attempt to wipe out both armies at once had failed. They would be carrying the fight into the city, something that both Alucard and the Major would doubly enjoy.

* * *

A/N: If you couldn't tell, I'm fairly inexperienced with large-scale scenes. Thus, that will likely be the last one for a while. Besides, the one-on-ones and small-group fights are always more fun to do anyways. 

Well, please review.


	46. Chapter 44: Luck of the Draw

A/N: Well, that's one of Alucard's generals down, and two to go. Mind you, Luke Valentine was always pretty weak. The Captain didn't even need to 'wolf out' to beat him.

Lennox, ah yes, the importance of reloading. I always figured Luke was a bit stupid to be carrying around shot-loaded antique pistols, classy, but stupid. As for new characters, I like to toss in the odd officer on either side now and then, though with the Millennium Nazis, I like to use people who actually fought in WWII(history buff). And thanks; I was really worried about how well I did with the larger scale fight.

Nythology, thanks yet again. It's good to see you back.

Zaisha… Hmm… Busting out the power of math I see… Well, I figure its 1000 vampires give-or-take thirty or forty, probably excluding crewmen as well. That and the Major doesn't really care about the regular troops. After all, he has Walter and the Captain. What's more, this was intended to be a short battle, freeing up the troops the second it ended. I guess he miscalculated as well…(I am thankful that you didn't bother to cite the vampires that were killed between Pickman, Iscariot, and that base self-destructing though. I figure they total about 70).

* * *

Tubalcaine Alhambra led his ghoul unit down the streets of London, towards the last known location of the Iscariots. Alucard had given him more than enough ghouls to overrun an armed force ten times the size of the meager group of paladins, but Tubalcaine knew that he was far from assured of victory.

He had no illusions about how tough the coming battle would be. Alexander Anderson had always been reputed amongst Millennium as the most powerful of the Vatican's legendary vampire-hunters. His regeneration put him on par with vampires in terms of durability, and his enhanced strength even exceeded that of the average vampire. He also had a near-unlimited supply of blessed tools with which to smite the undead. The fact that he was backed by more of the Vatican's elites was not comforting either.

Yet, he had a job to do in order to reclaim his body and soul, and if that job included fighting a fabled regenerator, than fight a regenerator he would. He took a quick leap away from his forces, hitting the rooftops to better search out the Iscariot group. Within a few moments he had located them. The holy powers that they invoked had become a unique brightness in the tainted city, making them easy to track.

The Vatican group was heading towards Waterloo Bridge, just turning past St. George's Cathedral. Their course was set on Trafalgar Square, where Alucard waited. But Alhambra would have none of that. Even if the Iscariots were content to throw their lives away by confronting Alucard, Alhambra's mission was to kill them before they became an annoyance to his… master. He rallied his ghouls, ordering them to move to the entrance of the bridge.

_The Iscariots won't pass_, he thought. _I'll bet my soul on that_.

* * *

Alexander Anderson walked down the street, ignoring the subordinates behind him. His focus was on one target.

_Monster_, he thought. _I shall slay you. For unleashing this devastation, neither you, nor your master, deserve any mercy. God's punishment shall use me as vessel, in that; His word shall protect me from failure. I will carry out my duties, and if my flesh proves too weak to carry out His punishment, than I will be forced to martyr myself for this greater cause, Amen_.

The defeat of Alucard had become his reason for existence. The monster had already proven that he was on a different level than that of any previous vampire. Indeed, even Millennium paled in comparison to the threat that a free Alucard represented. Maxwell would surely agree that a change in priority was in order, and as the section-chief could not be reached, the call was Anderson's. The Iscariots under his command acknowledged that he was correct in this choice, as even they could sense the darkness emanating from the corrupted Square.

They approached Waterloo Bridge, Anderson annoyed at taking the longer route. He would have preferred to take the more direct Hungerford Bridge, but it had been demolished by a stray V1, and would have been easily defended even if it still existed. Anderson began to make out the shapes of ghouls blocking the road up ahead. A vampire in a discolored white suit led them. Anderson paused, bringing his group to a halt just outside of effective firing range. Both he and the vampire stepped forwards.

"I am Tubalcaine Alhambra." Introduced the vampire, entering hearing range. "My friends, well, they used to call me a 'dandy man', but as of late, I appear to have lost that quality."

"Whom do you work for?" Asked Anderson, knowing that it didn't really matter. "And what on God's Earth are those?" He gestured to the ghouls and their odd assortment of weaponry.

"I work for Alucard. Not by choice, but by necessity." Responded Alhambra. "He holds my very soul, as it were. As for these ghouls, they belong to him as well."

Anderson's eyes widened when the implications of Alhambra's sentence sunk in. He knew that Alucard, like any other vampire, could create ghouls. But to have so many, from such different eras, implied that Alucard was capable of enslaving their very souls. He suddenly recognized Tubalcaine's name as well, remembering it from the Brazil report that Maxwell had shown him earlier after the conference. Confronted by such an incredible blasphemy, he did the only thing he could think of.

"That demon!" He shouted, blinded by zealous fury. He reached into his coat with both hands, grabbing as many bayonets as he could. He flung eight of the holy instruments at Tubalcaine. The blessed weapons sliced through the darkness hanging in the air, creating an almost-visible path as they flew at the former Millennium vampire.

Tubalcaine dodged the weapons with ease, again demonstrating the agility that he used in his battle with Alucard. The bayonets flew past him, hitting, and slaying, numerous ghouls. The sudden attack signaled both sides to begin the battle. The Iscariots immediately started firing, blasting the ghouls as they moved into range with their own weapons. Ghouls with spears rushed forwards into the fire, while the gun-equipped ghouls stayed back and fired with their primitive weapons.

Anderson and Tubalcaine fought in the center of the battlefield, surrounded by the whizzing of bullets and the charge of ghouls. Tubalcaine dodged another bayonet attack, jumping back and counter-attacking with a fist full of cards. Anderson quickly reached into his coat for a pair of bayonets, using them to slice the projectiles in mid-flight.

Tubalcaine shifted his aim, sending cards at Anderson's more vulnerable legs and arms. The paladin spun away, avoiding the attack and sending the pair of bayonets he held at Tubalcaine. He mimicked Anderson's spin, evading the holy-steel and sending another hand-full of cards at Anderson.

Anderson simply held up another pair of bayonets, using them as a shield to weather the attack. The playing cards, although powerful weapons, were meant to cut through flesh, not metal, and weakly bounced off of the blessed blades. Anderson then broke his defensive stance, charging at Tubalcaine to fight at close-range.

Tubalcaine tossed cards one after another as Anderson approached, but the paladin blocked them with well-timed slashes. Anderson closed in on Alhambra, spreading his arms and slashing inwards at the vampire. He ducked, causing the blades to cross harmlessly over his head, though his hat was cut apart in the process. With Anderson exposed at close-range, Tubalcaine sent a flood of cards from his sleeves into his hands, throwing them at the soonest opportunity. The cards met no resistance, stabbing through Anderson's body.

Anderson fell back, a dozen thin holes in his chest. He fell to his knees, dropping the pair of bayonets that he held. Tubalcaine smiled and didn't bother to leap back, knowing that his opponent was likely finished. Yet the Anderson's wounds quickly closed up, much to Tubalcaine's surprise.

"How… how did you?" He stammered. "My cards are designed so that their wounds can't close, there's silver fragments and everything! How could you…? Oh…" He had forgotten that he wasn't dealing with a vampire. Even Alucard hadn't been able to heal instantly from Tubalcaine's cards, thanks to their composition. A regenerator, on the other hand, had no such weaknesses to silver, or mercury, or even limited amounts of magic.

Anderson quickly recovered from the light wounds. He stood up; spreading his left hand to grab around Tubalcaine's face while the 'dandy man' was still dazed at Anderson's quick recovery. He lifted up the vampire, reaching into his coat for a bayonet with which to finish off the monster. Just as Anderson reached for it however, Tubalcaine snapped out of shock and sent a barrage of cards through Anderson's left arm. The paladin's grip relaxed immediately, giving Tubalcaine just enough time to leap back from a bayonet stab.

Tubalcaine cursed his luck, mentally asking why he had to get the one opponent that he couldn't effectively hurt. He narrowly avoided another thrown bayonet, trying to think up a plan to get out of the quickly degenerating situation.

"Did you think your pathetic cards could hurt me?" Mocked Anderson. "If I was one of your miserable vampire brothers, or a regular human, than yes, those cards would be quite dangerous. But I'm neither. Your weapons can't blow me apart, or slice off limbs. They can't even pierce through large amounts of flesh. You'd be much better off with a gun if you wanted to pester me with useless weapons."

Alhambra turned his attention away from Anderson, resolving to take out the other Iscariots first. _Without comrades_, he figured, _my ghouls can easily overrun that Vatican dog_. He chose his first target, a male priest on the edge of the Iscariot formation. He took off, using his superior speed to escape from Anderson.

He dropped in front of the target paladin, slicing through his neck with a well-aimed card. However, before he could move on, Yumie charged at him, causing him to leap back to avoid decapitation. Yumie followed him, while Anderson closed in as well.

Tubalcaine evaluated his two opponents. Figuring that Yumie would be easier to kill, he aimed at her. He held his hands up into the air, summoning up a storm of cards to slice apart the nun. Before he could send it though, a pair of high-powered rounds slammed into his shoulders, tearing his arms from their sockets. Heinkel stood behind her partner, holding a pair of smoking magnums. Yumie exploited Tubalcaine's stunned state, slashing him apart in a berserker fury. A final cut sent his head flying from his shoulders, causing it, and the rest of Tubalcaine Alhambra's body, to dissolve into dust.

Anderson turned his attention to the battle, sending bayonet after bayonet into the ghoul forces. The sudden attack halted the already slowed down charge of pikemen, leaving the Iscariots free to devote their attention to the ghouls taking potshots from the rear. Without their leader, the ghouls were defeated within minutes.

"How many do we have left?" He asked Heinkel, not bothering to check for himself. The number of surviving paladins didn't matter. He had his mission, and numbers were certainly not going to interfere.

"We lost seven more." Answered Heinkel. "Which means that, including you, Yumie, and myself, we have six people."

Anderson nodded, silently continuing on across the now-undefended bridge. Heinkel and Yumie walked alongside him, with the other surviving paladins collecting themselves to follow.

* * *

Alucard watched through the eyes of his ghouls as the second of his 'generals' fell in battle. He smiled, knowing that everything was going according to plan. He had no intentions of killing Alexander Anderson so soon. He was content to test the paladin, help him become a suitable opponent. Alhambra had been that test, though Alucard had to admit that he hadn't expected the former Millennium vampire to be so useless when faced against a simple regenerator.

As for Luke Valentine: Alucard couldn't care less. He had only placed the enhanced freak-vampire in charge of his main forces because he could hold off any of Millennium's elite troops. He had succeeded in this, having occupied the Captain during the battle. Though Alucard would have preferred it if the Valentine brother had lasted longer against the Major's bodyguard.

_Oh well_, he thought. _Once trash, always trash. It would be foolish to have expected anything more than a short fight and ignoble death from him_.

Rip Van Winkle on the other hand, he had marked for success. She was given the easiest of the targets, or rather, the least rigged against her. Killing Pickman and the Round Table should be simple tasks for her, and her freedom would work with his long-term plans.

_Pickman may actually be a problem though_, he admitted. _He has willpower, and can think on his feet. He may even be able to outwit the huntress. Islands, the other hand, certainly won't, so the Round Table will fall regardless. It would be unfortunate though, if Rip lost to Pickman, but hardly tragic. After all, if she can't earn her freedom, she deserves nothing short of a third death_.

Alucard shifted his focus to the Tower of London, just waiting for the surprises to begin there.

* * *

Well, yet another chapter done. With Anderson closing in, and Pickman about to face off with Rip, we're nearing the end of the story (by nearing, I mean I'm contemplating ending it within a month or two).

Well, if you have a few spare minutes, drop me a review.


	47. Chapter 45: Hunters, and the Hunted

A/N: So, the second battle for the Tower of London has begun. Which means that Pickman finally gets a turn to be under fire.

Lennox, yeah, I must shamefully admit that I never bothered to take a look at London's geography until I wrote the last chapter. Once I did however, there was much geographic rejoicing, and a much needed end to my horrible sidestepping of the subject. As for Anderson, he's just warming up. Wouldn't want to bust out the full holy arsenal on a few minions right? And it's great to write in Heinkel and Yumie, so I didn't want Anderson to completely dominate the fight.

Darthjag, well, tis' a tough one indeed. I myself wasn't quite sure how to work this, but I think I came up with a decent method of resolving who gets to win the next fight.

Zaisha, there's no need to worry about my mental state. It's far from easy to work with Anderson and Alucard. It takes plenty of experience and immersion in the Hellsing fandom (sounds lame). But yeah, all the character analyzing other people do makes it an easier job. Alucard is a problem though… I have to choose between his manga and anime personalities, leading to a bit of a mix…

* * *

Gunfire and explosions lit up the darkened city of London. Sir Islands watched from the Tower of London's command center as the rooftop cameras began to observe the guerilla war moving into the city. 

Sir Penwood stood beside Islands, having just been summoned from the conference room. Penwood became increasingly nervous as reports flooded in from the remaining land-wire communications. Within minutes it was clear that the military forces under General Harwood had been routed.

"What is the meaning of this?" Islands demanded of Penwood. "Penwood, I cannot believe that a General, and military force, that you hand-picked, would fail so easily!"

"These circumstances were not predicted." Answered Penwood, straightening himself to meet the taller knight's eyes. "Harwood is an experienced general, and his family has had a long history of service. His father even fought the Nazis as an admiral in the British Navy, knighted for winning the Battle of the River Plate. He was well suited to this task. As for our soldiers, they are the best under our command. The very fact that they survived this dark day, even with an empowered vampire army backed by ghouls facing them, is proof of their competence."

"I don't need them to survive." Responded Islands. "I need them to destroy the enemy! Which is something they failed to do! What's more, Harwood's forces are on their way here. Which means that Millennium will follow, finally noticing our little hold-out here."

"Sir!" Shouted out a tactical controller. "Our sentries have spotted an enemy force moving towards us down Great Tower Street! It is composed of hundreds of ghouls."

"Odd," remarked Islands. "I didn't expect us to notice us so soon."

"Maybe it's that other undead force." Guessed Penwood, recalling the reports they had just received. "Perhaps Hellsing's vampire has indeed returned, and is responsible for this current mess."

"Although it's not inconceivable," replied Islands, having seen Alucard's true power once before. "It doesn't matter. Those ghouls are unarmed, probably all former civilians at that. They can't break through the main gate."

"But they are armed!" Yelled the controller. "It's a force armed with modern equipment! What's more, we've just identified their uniforms!"

"And they are?"

"It's Hellsing! We're about to be attacked by zombified Hellsing soldiers!"

Islands' jaw nearly dropped as the green-uniformed ghoul army approached into camera range, displaying the image across the main screen. The army halted just outside of rifle range from the waiting Round Table forces.

The ghoul force parted, allowing a woman to step forwards, a vampire by Islands' reckoning. Her glasses shone in the night, despite a lack of light to reflect, and she easily held a long musket over her shoulder. Sir Islands could only watch in horror as she lifted the large weapon with one arm, aiming towards the main gate. She fired, sending a streak of light trailing the shot. Island's shifted his gaze to the monitor overlooking the gate.

The shot punched a hole in the gate, causing only minimum damage. Island's shock began to fade, only to flare up again when the streak of light lazily curbed around as it passed through the reconstructed courtyard. It's course reset, the shot tore through the gate again, and circling again as it entered the street. The 'magic bullet' continued its loop, blasting through the gate again and again. Finally, it's supports shot out, the gate collapsed, signaling the ghouls to charge.

Soldiers tried to fight them off from the gate, but the ghouls were well armed and had an advantage in numbers and durability. Sir Islands looked away from the monitor.

Turning to Penwood he said, "it won't be long now before they're inside. You had best return to the conference room. If worse comes to worse, we'll have to evacuate." Penwood nodded weakly, fleeing the room.

"As for me," he said, turning to face the tactical controller. "I need to check something. I'll head for the conference room afterwards. Now, I trust you can fight them off?"

"Well," replied the controller. "We can certainly hold them off until reinforcements arrive. If you give us permission to launch our remaining attack helicopter, we may be able to contain them in the courtyard, possibly halting their advance."

"Then do it." Ordered Islands, swiftly leaving the room, carrying his briefcase beside him.

* * *

"This way," said one of the Hellsing mercenaries, leading the team towards what Pickman had decided was a suitable weakness. "The wall's broken up enough to climb." 

Pickman followed with the others, glad to see that he still had a few troops under him. Four men in all had returned. The other five had become victims of the ghouls that were beginning to appear with more and more frequency. The mercenary led the team around the south wall, using the on-going attack as a distraction.

A wall section had been damaged by a stray V1 during the initial attack. The tower's defenses had failed to detect the off-course weapon, allowing it to explode just outside of the walls. The result was a crumbled section of wall, formerly patrolled, but now abandoned with the invasion at the main gate. Pickman and the others climbed over it quickly, not wanting to get spotted in such a vulnerable area.

"Remember, we have two objectives," reminded Pickman. "We need to intercept the Round Table, and give the order for British forces to withdraw." Although a modification to Integra's order to take command of the force, Pickman felt that the odds had shifted to the point that human troops weren't going to make much of a difference to a battle between Millennium and Alucard. The safest bet would be to get them out of the city and minimize casualties amongst the misled military.

"We should hit the helipad first." Suggested one mercenary. "Those Round Table guys should be bugging out soon, so we'll catch em' as they retreat."

"That works," agreed Pickman. "With the new design changes to the tower, the only entrance is through the courtyard past the main gate. We need to get over there before those ghouls drag the fight that far."

The battle was still raging near the main gate. The Round Table forces were still slowly losing ground to the Hellsing ghouls. They began to break through into the courtyard just as Pickman's team snuck past the battlefield. The team was just about to enter through the main doors when the roar of a helicopter engine sounded above them.

"Are we too late?" Wondered Pickman. He breathed a sigh of relief when an attack chopper revealed itself, spraying the ghouls with machine-gun fire. Pickman paused to observe the battle, gasping moments later when a streak of light tore through the helicopter, then looped back into it as a finisher. The vehicle crashed down in flames, wiping out the remaining troops, and most of the ghouls. A single figure walked through the flames.

The figure of Rip Van Winkle was revealed, strolling through the devastation. She turned towards the main doors, approaching Pickman. Several ghouls trailed behind her, slowly shifting themselves around the flaming wreckage. Pickman, although he knew that there was still a mission to accomplish, felt compelled to confront her, noticing something was amiss with the ghouls beginning to come into view.

"Go on ahead," he ordered his team. "Something's not right here, but we still need to accomplish the mission. Get to the helipad." The mercenaries promptly obeyed, shifting open the heavy doors and escaping. Rip let this occur, focusing on Pickman.

"You must be Chris Pickman?" She stated. "It's good that you didn't run away. It would have been annoying to chase you down while still dealing with those Round Table cowards."

"And you are?" Usually, Pickman would have started shooting by now, but the ghouls were just coming into focus, occupying his attention.

"I am Rip Van Winkle, the hunter if you will." She replied. "As for my allegiance, that shall become clear in a moment." The ghouls stepped out of the shadow cast by the flames, revealing some familiar faces to Pickman.

"Fox! Gamble!" Shouted Pickman, recognizing his fellow captains during the first battle at the tower. "What the hell have they done to you?" Another ghoul stepped forward. "Commander Fargason? No… What is this?"

"This is the power of a true vampire," answered Rip. "I myself fell to his wrath, and serve him now."

"Alucard?" Pickman had never spoken the name with more loathing. "Alucard did this?"

"Yes he did. Those ghouls are all that remain of the bodies and souls of his human vict…" A gunshot interrupted her, shattering the ghoulish Mason Fox. Pickman held up his Underdog, barrel smoking. He fired another round a moment later, destroying Captain Gamble.

"Tsk tsk," Rip chided her opponent. "You could have at least…" A bullet in her direction interrupted, forcing her to duck aside. The round continued into the head of Commander Fargason, shattering the ghoul into dust.

Rip stood straight, clearly annoyed. "My turn." She hissed, lifting up her musket and aiming it in Pickman's direction. The Hellsing commander tried to counter-attack, firing another shot, but she simply sidestepped as he fired. She held her finger around the trigger, ready to unleash Pickman's doom.

He dropped to the ground just as the shot fired. He watched the brilliant trail of the round as it zoomed over him, only to see it abruptly turn upwards, going up hundreds of feet before falling directly at him. He rolled over as fast as he could, feeling the force of the round as it impacted the earth beside him. He jumped up hastily, relaxing a bit when he noticed that the shot was firmly lodged in the ground.

"That's new," commented Rip. "I can see why Alucard wants you dead." Pickman merely took a combat stance in response, readying his Underdog. Rip, facing a delay before she could fire again, held up her gun like a spear, charging forwards. She stopped at arms length from Pickman, rearing her arm for a stabbing attack.

Pickman sidestepped the attack, using his left leg to throw his body out of the weapon's path while keeping steady enough to extend his right arm towards Rip, delivering a quick, one-handed shot with the Underdog. Rip couldn't dodge at such close range, but the shot was hastily aimed and only struck her side. She jumped back, clutching the wound.

Pickman stepped back as well, nearly dropping his gun after suffering the horrible recoil of using it one-handed. He checked his shoulder, making sure that he didn't dislocate anything. Both sides faced each other again, Pickman making sure to keep his left hand on the Underdog, while Rip lowered her arm from the wound, weakened, but still capable.

* * *

Sir Islands, Knight of the Round Table and traitor to Her Majesty, stood alone in his room. The reports coming in were far from positive. The ghouls had broken through, the attack helicopter was destroyed, and there was no way reinforcements would arrive fast enough. It was time that he took things into his own hands. 

The briefcase lay open, and empty, on the table. The ten enhanced freak-chips within were now scattered across Islands' body. Yet, the situation was far too grave for even those to make much of a difference now. He opened a hidden compartment on the case, retrieving an eleventh chip.

This chip was not designed by Millennium. It was the culmination of fifty years of American research, combined with British application to the existing Millennium chip design. It was known to be radically unstable, a direct sample of what the Millennium Organization only referred to as 'her', the true base for their vampire technology. The sample had proven unstable, killing every potential candidate that the Americans had tested it on. But with ten Millennium chips, as well as a new vessel for the sample itself, it promised to be a stable injection of pure vampire power.

_With this_, he thought. _I can free myself from all obligations. I will step forward to rule England with an iron fist. I will reverse this decline of the British! I will destroy all those who would stand against my new empire! This dawn will come! My day shall arise, and I will have the power and immortality to make the most of it!_

He pressed the chip against his neck, using its activation as a trigger for the other ten chips. He could feel a horrible jolt of the purest agony for a moment, and then everything went white.

* * *

Both Pickman and Rip raised their guns, about to fire, when a flood of light poured through the windows and doors of the Tower of London, blinding them momentarily. Pickman waited a moment, noticing that Rip was no longer focused on him. 

"What is it?" He asked, knowing that if it was enough to interrupt her, it was worth knowing before taking advantage of.

"I don't know," she answered, oddly cordial for someone who was just trying to kill him. "But whatever it is, I've only sensed something like it once before, and it wasn't a pleasant experience."

* * *

The Major stood up in amazement as a bright light enveloped the Tower of London momentarily. The Doc came up moments later, a look of shock on his face. 

"Did he?" Questioned the Major. "Did Islands just do what I think he did?"

"Yes, and then some." Answered the Doc. "Such a powerful reaction… I don't think he used just our chips."

"So they were developing their own technology as well?" Inquired the Major. "It figures, after that sample we lost years ago in Brazil. I didn't suspect that the American's would have handed it over to Islands though."

"Well," said the Doc. "If they used a raw sample from 'her', the transformation should have backfired. He must be using our technology to stabilize it! Damn it! If only I had been given a few more months for research, I could have easily done the same thing! Using the Incognito-based enhanced chip as a stabilizer! Brilliant!"

"No use regretting it Doc," said the Major. "Besides, we still have the sample's source. I doubt anything they could come up with would equal that."

"No, no it wouldn't." Confirmed Doc. "But he can control that chip. We have no such ability."

The Major smiled. "I don't need to control it. Such raw insanity deserves no such restraint. Besides, there is no doubt that Alucard is aware of this. If we're lucky, we'll be given an excellent show by these powerful players."

The Doc could only nod, caring not for observing battle, but creating the tools to carry it out. "I'll see if I can't whip up something of our own to counter this. If not, we'll just have to rely on the Captain and Butler to deal with these super powered menaces."

"Very well," replied the Major. "I look forward to the results"

Just as the Doc turned to leave, the Major spoke again. "Whether or not you succeed, a great battle will ensue regardless. And isn't that really the whole point? Alucard, Islands, Hellsing, Iscariot, bring on your most powerful warriors! We want to face them! Whether or not we meet destruction as a result isn't the point, it's all about the now! For us, the damned, there is no future. We have no origin, and shall never go forwards. We can only create such destruction as to freeze the world along with us! With fire and death we shall convert the world to be ours! The world shall cease, following us on the path to immortality through warfare. Our casualties are non-existent, for we are dead and have no future. The dead merely exist outside of our sight, trapped in the same eternal now as us."

He continued, holding his hands to the darkened sky above. "Let them realize this! Let them accept our destiny! Let us create hell! Let us create war! A true immortality on Earth! Whether they wish it or not, the apocalypse is nigh, and they shall help us bring it about!"

* * *

A/N: Well, Islands has proven to have some more surprises up his sleeves than predicted. And I got a Major rant in! And a fight-scene! Bam! I'm on the ball today. 


	48. Chapter 46: Fallen Knight

A/N: Well, as you can see, I didn't bother to kill-off Rip last chapter! That's unusual, considering that I brought back those three characters as throwaways… She does have a use though, so I'll toss her into Alucard's 'master plan'.

Darthjag, thanks. It's good to know that I was indeed on the ball, not just thinking that I was. Fatigue has a way of messing with people like that.

Lennox, yeah, Pickman really should have suffered some serious damage by now, in terms of the recoil department at least. Yet luck (and author powers), combined with the fact that those abuses are few and far between, has saved him. I was a bit worried about the Islands twist, but I'd say I gave it a decent amount of set-up, and I certainly wasn't about to let him get slaughtered like Maxwell did.

As for 'her', she's from The Dawn, just really, really, unexplained. Apparently 'she' is the original vampire subject used for the Millennium Project. Frankly, I know very little about 'her', but I'm assuming that she's completely uncontrollable, and horribly powerful. Sorta like a Millennium Alucard, just… not crappy like Incognito. Millennium has her bound up. A few writers have used her, but I'm assuming that use is based off of speculation (maybe I'll ask them). As for my next fic, I can't help it! I just can't help but toss in references to something that doesn't exist as of now. It's almost like a planning stage, just harassing this fic's readers to bounce ideas. Of course, all shall be explained when I actually get around to writing it, and it will, of course, be loaded with dramatic irony.

Zaisha, if it isn't on the list, it should be. And any excuse to toss in a Major-rant is good one.

Nythology, thanks yet again! For my first fic, I think I've done decently. I'm glad that I met your expectations, and hopefully the expectations of most of the readers.

Loz, thanks! I will indeed keep writing. At least, I will as long as I can.

However, I've begun to review this fic, and critique my characterization choices. I'm hoping I'm just paranoid, cause if it turns out I was stu-ing it, I'm deleting this fic. Hellsing fandom doesn't need anymore of those. Bah, nevermind, I'm just really tired right now... I tend to get negative when I'm tired.

* * *

The light faded, allowing the darkness to once again take the Tower of London. Pickman and Rip Van Winkle stood facing each other in the courtyard, waiting for some explanation as to what happened.

"So, where exactly have you seen this before?" Asked Pickman. He knew that whatever was going on, it was the Round Table's work, and he needed answers as to what it was.

Rip obliged answering with, "_Her_, the last time I sensed something like this, it was when I was shown 'her'."

"What?"

Rip wasn't particularly compelled to explain this to Pickman. She simply shrugged off the question. She was pondering the implications herself, absorbed in her thoughts when Alucard contacted her moments later.

_This is most interesting,_ came the vampire's voice. _I didn't expect Islands to be able to wield this kind of power_.

_Does this change anything_? She asked, the deal ever-present in her mind.

Alucard seemed in thought for a moment, but Rip could tell that he was merely patronizing her. _Very well_, he said. _Don't kill Pickman, for now. He can be used to summon Seras. My 'former' fledgling should be able to defeat this vampiric imitation that Islands has constructed of himself. You may also want to explain what's going on to him_.

"Well?" Came the voice of Pickman, snapping her out of the conversation with Alucard. "What is 'her'?"

"She is our progenitor," Answered Rip, forced into cooperation. "The base for Millennium's vampire research. Our first ghouls were created based on our initial data of her. As the research continued, we created increasingly effective treatments, allowing us to build our immortal army. Eventually, we reached the level where only certain individuals could withstand the highest quality treatments. They, we, went on to become the battalion's elites."

"So, someone in there just transformed into a vampire?" Asked Pickman, trying to grasp the concept.

"Not just your average freak-vampire, or even one of us. What just happened was a direct infusion of 'her' power."

"Why didn't Millennium ever use direct infusions if they were so powerful?"

"We tried, and lost dozens of subjects. 'Her' power is terrifying, and impossible to control. A direct infusion should be more than enough to kill any human, and the treatment would be worthless to one who is already a vampire. Somehow, someone has worked around that."

"Well, than what should we expect?" Asked Pickman, unsure as to what exactly the Round Table had done.

"Either a defect, or a vampire on par with the best Millennium and Alucard have to offer. I suspect it is the latter though."

Pickman just sighed in response. It seemed that no one was winning this war. It was just becoming a series of short-lived advantages. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what the final advantage would be, and for whom it would bring victory.

* * *

Sir Islands stood up, smoke rising from his body as a remnant of the energy given off by the numerous chips. The light faded, restoring his vision to an unparalleled clarity. His glasses had been destroyed by the reaction, but they were no longer needed. He set the twisted frame aside as he heard a group of guards running down the hall towards his quarters. He could not just hear and smell the new arrivals, but he could sense the blood that flowed through them. The transformation had been a taxing one, and he had failed to take into account the immediate desire for blood post-vampirization.

"Sir Islands?" Came the voice of one of the guards. "Are you alright sir?"

Islands opened the door in response, smiling when the guards reacted with a look of shock at his appearance. The lead guard tried to pull out his sidearm, only to have a spear of darkness stab through his face. Islands held up his hand, observing what he had just done. A thin black spear had extended from his finger, a physical manifestation of vampire power. He gave a quick chuckle, drawing on the same energy while the guards merely looked on in shock.

A dozen more spears shot from his body, wiping out the unit. Their blood flowed freely, drained by the darkness that Islands had created. He reveled in the darkness, knowing that the chips had succeeded in their promise of quick power. In mere seconds, he felt that he had achieved more power than all of Millennium's past research combined. He knew that it was time to carry out his plan. The interlopers in his city would be destroyed, one after the other, until he was the undisputed victor of this conflict.

_The courtyard will be the first stop_, he thought. _Best to deal with Alucard's minions before wiping the arrogant expression off of that beast's face_. He called upon the same shadows as before, dissolving his physical form in order to transport himself to the courtyard.

* * *

The pair of Hellsing APCs moved down the devastated outskirts of the city. Pip sat in the back of the lead vehicle, going over maps and what few reports they had intercepted in the short time the military had been given between when Millennium had dropped and the new darkness obscured communications.

Seras sat in the corner of the vehicle, still working Zorin Blitz's illusions out of her system. Pip still had little clue as to what his mignonette had seen, but from what mumblings he could intercept, it had to do with her childhood.

_Probably some traumatic memory_, he figured. _I can sympathize, though now is a god-awful time to space out on us_.

A sudden burst of light shone from the eastern part of the city. Even from the back of the APC, Pip could still see the shine through the rear windows. The vehicle swerved and the brakes sounded, likely a result of a temporarily blinded driver.

Seras' eyes half-opened eyes widened at the sight, snapping her out of the illusion that she had been absorbed in.

"What's going on?" Asked Pip, looking at Seras.

"I… I don't know." She responded, still a bit out of it. "But there's a lot of energy floating around. Blood is everywhere, and there are a few areas where I can sense huge amounts of power. Millennium's zeppelin, Trafalgar Square, the Tower of London…"

"Well, where did that light come from?" Asked Pip, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"The Tower of London." She responded, fairly sure. She paused for a moment, remembering her seals. "Pickman is over there as well." She added, detecting his presence via the seal.

"All right, we're heading for the Tower of London." Pip said to the driver. "We still don't have any idea as to where Integra is, so it's best if we go with what we've got for now."

"Right," said Seras. "I'll try to contact Pickman and see what's going on. If he's in trouble, I'll have to ditch you guys to get over there faster."

"It's all right." Acknowledged Pip. "We should be fine for at least a while without you."

The vehicles sped up, trying to avoid the ghouls and quickly piling rubble on the street.

* * *

A fog began to form in the courtyard, further corrupting the air. A blob of darkness began to form in the air in front of them, beginning to take a human shape. Pickman knew that they were about to encounter whatever had just occurred in the tower.

"Ready?" He asked Rip, figuring that she was on his side, at least for now. She just nodded in reply, keeping her gun aimed at the reforming vampire. Pickman held up the Underdog as well, watching the laser pointer dance over the darkened mass.

"Put the guns down," came the voice of Sir Islands, drifting across the courtyard. "They won't do you any good." Neither Pickman nor Rip took the advice.

"Fine," said Islands, finally finished reforming. "It doesn't matter anyways."

Pickman figured that if they were to have any chance, they would have to take the initiative and attack while they still could. Just as he was about to fire, Seras' voice cut into his head.

_Sir_? She asked, _what's going on_?

_Seras_? He responded. _It certainly took you long enough! I could really use your help right about now_!

_What's happening over there_? She asked. _It felt like there was an explosion of power_.

_It's Islands! He's used some sort of enhanced freak-chip or something! He's even intimidating Alucard's minions_!

_Alucard's whats_? Asked Seras. _Never mind; I'll be over there shortly. Try to distract him or something_!

Pickman knew how to distract an opponent, the oldest trick in the book. One that he completely despised in indulging; but had a practical use in this case.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked Islands. "Why betray your country? For power?"

"Why else?" Responded Islands. "Millennium offered me control over Great Britain, as well as immortality. Why should I have refused such generosity? Especially when I could take advantage of that generosity to go beyond what they were offering."

"This just doesn't seem like you." Said Pickman. "I've heard that you've shown nothing but loyalty to the crown for over 50 years!"

"That changed." Said Islands, almost taking a mournful tone in his exposition. "Ten years ago, when Arthur Hellsing died."

"And how did that change things?" Pickman asked. Rip stood aside, realizing that he was stalling for some reason.

"Arthur was my best friend, and the most admirable individual I'd ever known. Yet, he'd died, and with the exceptions of the Queen, the Round Table, and his household, no one cared. He had devoted his entire life to public service. Service to a public which had never known he even existed!" He held up his hand, a dark aura surrounding it.

"It was then that I realized," he continued. "That the same thing would happen to the rest of us!" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a charred, but functional, detonator. "Observe! No one will lament the deaths of the Round Table! No one will ever know they existed!" He pressed the button, causing an explosion to echo through the fortress.

"What was that?" Asked Pickman.

"That," Islands answered confidently. "Was the end of Great Britain's secret rulers. The end of our secrecy! Our shadow cabinet! All gone! It is time for me to take open control of this country! I refuse to fade away, remembered only by a single monarch and a foolish council! I will take public control and reclaim the empire we, the British, once forged! Even if I fail in the process, the try will last forever! All I need to do is win this battle! that's all I need to set the wheels of destiny in motion!"

His voice lowered, and he held up his hand towards Pickman. "As for anyone who stands in my way…" He continued. "They deserve nothing short of an ignominious death! Nothing shall stand between providence and myself!" tendrils of darkness shot out at Pickman.

Pickman jumped aside, dodging the spears of darkness by centimeters. Rip countered, firing a shot at Islands. The magic bullet struck him in the side, ripping through the malleable flesh with ease, sending a spray of darkness flying. The shot looped around, striking Islands again. Within a few hits, Islands was practically falling apart.

"Is that all you've got?" He taunted, although minus most of his bodily mass.

Pickman rose to his feet, firing at Islands. The rounds tore through what was left of the knight, causing him to collapse in a pool of blood and darkness. It began to rise moments later, reforming into the shape of Islands.

"I told you already!" He said. "Your weapons are useless against this power!"

"You have got to be kidding me…" muttered Pickman. "It's like fighting Seras all over again!"

"Do you have any ideas?" Asked Rip, stumped against a vampire immune to her attacks.

"Conventional weapons, even regular silver or limited magic, are useless against this type of vampire." Said Pickman. "We'd need something more powerful, like holy water, or a cross, or blessed silver of the highest quality, the classical, but inefficient, gear."

"And your gun?"

"The rounds were scaled back from the Jackal's quality due to cost." He said bitterly. "I suppose that, even then, the Round Table was sabotaging our efforts."

"You give me too much credit," cut in Islands. "That oversight was purely unintentional, no matter how fortunate." He fired another set of spears, this time aiming at Rip. The former Millennium vampire dodged to side, giving her gun a spin to fend off a few stray tendrils. Pickman returned fire, forcing Islands to back off after having his arm shot off again.

Pickman reloaded, but knew that it was a pretty futile gesture. Islands was quickly working out how to control his powers, and would soon figure out how to make his form more durable, as well as come up with more effective attacks.

"This is no good at all," said Pickman, ducking as Islands finished regenerating and sent another burst of darkness his way. Another shot from Rip tore through Islands' head, sending his body falling to the ground. The decapitated vampire got up moments later, still acting as if nothing had happened to him.

Rip fired another shot, another magic bullet to slow down the former knight. Islands reacted differently this time. He held up his hand towards the oncoming round, creating a shield from his aura. The bullet was wrapped in darkness, losing control and falling to the ground helplessly.

Pickman raised his gun and fired as well. Islands simply extended his aura into the ground, sending spears bursting out of the soil to intercept the rounds. Pickman ceased fire, leaping aside as the ground broke apart around him. He barely escaped the attack, taking a moment to catch his breath while Rip countered with another easily intercepted shot.

"Is that all?" Taunted Islands. "You're getting to be so predictable! I'm only getting better, while you limit yourselves to repetitive failures!" In a flash, a pair of spears had embedded themselves in Rip's chest, withdrawing after a few moments. The former Millennium lieutenant fell to the ground, incapacitated.

Pickman stood up, taking aim with his weapon. Islands was too fast though. A tendril whipped away Pickman's Underdog from his grip. He kept at it though, pulling out his Glock, only to have it knocked away at lightning speed as well.

"I want you to suffer." Said Islands bitterly. "Such an awful pawn deserves nothing less. If there were an existence worse than that of a ghoul, I would give it to you within a second. Even now you fight back, without a prayer of victory. Such stubbornness has proven to be quite the obstacle to me thus far. Why can't you fools see that this country is mine! I've run it for over 30 years now, and I'll rule it for a thousand more!" He held out his arms, sending out a dozen tendrils to hold Pickman down.

"There's no need to even address that." Said Pickman weakly, trying to free himself to no avail. "As a traitor and co-conspirator to this madness, you've forfeited all rights. Becoming a vampire just makes it all the easier to justifiably carry out your sentence."

"You are hardly in a position to carry out a death penalty." Gloated Islands. "In fact, I-" His voice suddenly cut off.

Pickman looked up at the vampire, noticing his expression as one of shock. In a flash he noticed a glint of silver sticking out from his chest.

"We don't need to be remembered for the power we held." Came the voice of Sir Penwood. The Round Table knight was leaning on the front door of the tower, holding a crossbow in his hand, a bolt from it already buried in Islands' heart.

"What… what is this?" Stammered Islands. "And why aren't you dead?"

"I've been working against you from the start, a spy for Her Majesty." Responded Penwood. "Of course I knew about the explosives you placed in the conference room."

"Impossible!" Shouted Islands, stressing his system to remove the bolt of silver. "Out of all the…"

"Out of all the knights, you suspected me the least?" Finished Penwood. "You counted on the fact that I would follow orders, that I could do naught but. Yet you forgot who takes priority. My sense of duty to Her Majesty far outweighs that to you."

"But… what is this?" Asked Islands, gesturing to the wound caused by the crossbow.

"This is a little toy left behind by Section XIII." Explained Penwood, pulling out another bolt. "The weapon of one of their agents, killed a few times a while back. The bolts are blessed silver of the highest quality. Even stronger vampires prefer not to be hit with this kind of firepower." He struggled with the crossbow, trying to reload the heavy device. "Besides," he said confidently. "You've already lost."

"What?"

"Her Majesty and the Royal Family have already been evacuated." Said Penwood. "Even if it was the most I could do, they're out of harm's way, out of your way. You'll never be able to rule now."

"Treacherous pawn!" Roared Islands, turning his attention to Penwood. The bolt in his chest burst out, freeing him. In a flash, tendrils of darkness struck around Penwood, grabbing a hold of the knight. "Die." Hissed Islands, slowly squeezing the life out of Penwood.

Pickman felt the hold on himself loosening with Islands' attention divided. Realizing that this was his last chance, he broke free, reaching into his other handgun holster. He pulled out the gun that Lieutenant Young had given him, passed on to him by Sir Integra. It was a lighter weapon than the Underdog, yet held a heavier punch against vampires. He fired at Islands' skull, striking it with a bullet of blessed silver. The shot imbedded, causing Islands to recoil in pain. The hold on Penwood was immediately released, allowing the knight to fall to the ground, gasping for air.

Pickman took aim and fired again, striking Islands' heart. Again the silver imbedded in Islands' flesh, harming his regenerative process. Five more shots struck the former Round Table knight, sending him to the ground. Pickman paused to reload; slamming in the spare clip Young had given him.

He emptied the second clip into Islands, standing over him to deliver the shots. Finally, the vampire ceased movement. Pickman breathed a sigh of relief, moving over to help Penwood up. Just as he reached the downed knight though, a laugh came from Islands.

"I'm still here…" the traitor rasped, standing up. Islands was riddled with silver bullets, a complete wreck, yet still in existence. He shuffled towards Penwood and Pickman.

"It's a good thing you two are here." He said hungrily. "I've used up far too much energy… It's good to have such a handy snack available."

Pickman held up his gun, knowing it was empty. It would be futile to fight a vampire unarmed, but Pickman was willing to try anyways. However, just as Islands reached out towards Pickman, a shot rung through the courtyard, sending Islands' arm falling to the ground in a splash of blood.

"Seras!" Shouted Pickman, watching the Hellsing vampire appear from the shadows, holding a smoking Casull.

"Damn it!" Cursed Islands, deprived of his victory. He reached out, trying to reattach his arm, only to discover that his powers had deserted him after taking so much damage.

Seras looked at him with disgust. "Just like Anders…" She muttered, shooting off his other arm.

"Wait! Don't do it!" Begged Islands, seeing no other course. Seras just shook her head in response. He dropped to his knees in defeat. "My immortality…" He moped, realizing that he had lost.

"Completely squandered," answered Seras. "I really don't know who's right or wrong here. The lines between good and evil were blurred the second this whole affair began. All I know, is that you are one of the men responsible for this. No, you aren't a man. You forfeited your humanity. You're already dead, it's only a matter of your body catching up to your soul." She fired, blasting Islands' head into dust. The fallen knight's body struck the ground, dissolving as it contacted the earth. Soon, only a pile of dust remained of what was once the most powerful man in Great Britain.

"Good timing," said Pickman, walking over to recover his gun off the ground. "By the way, where are Pip and the others?"

"They're on their way." Answered Seras. "I had to go on ahead, but they're only a few minutes off. Headquarters was attacked. We repelled them, but as a result we could only spare twenty men. The others are treating the wounded and defending the mansion."

"That's fine," said Pickman. "I was just about to finish up here anyways."

"What will we do now?" She asked.

"We'll be heading for wherever Alucard and Millennium are." Answered Pickman. "This, as difficult as it was, is nothing but a sideshow compared to the deciding battle."

He stared at the gigantic zeppelin hovering above the city. _The final battle_, he _decided, will occur there. I just hope we'll be in time to make a difference_.

* * *

A/N: A relatively long time between updates, I know. But hey, we're entering the thick of the school season, and priorities are priorities.

Well, regardless, review please.


	49. Chapter 47: Darkness and Light

A/N: Woah, long absence from me, eh? Well, that's what happens when essays and mid-terms come around. Though really, now that the university workload is starting/finishing to kick-in, I'll probably be holding off on writing for a while. On the plus side, I've now read volume 8, most of the Dawn, and the start of volume 9. Thus making me slightly more knowledgeable about the whole Hellsing situation at large. As for the current situation: With Islands out of the way, I'm going to be moving straight into the Alucard/Anderson battle, with my own twist and writing, of course.

Nythology, yes, Rip still has quite a-bit more in the way of a role for this story. Also, I'm glad that everyone noticed my use of 'incapacitated', twas not a fluke at all. And thanks for the compliments on the fight. I'm always worried about how action scenes turn out.

Zaisha, yeah, it's fun to redeem Penwood. He was generally a like-able guy in the manga, and I never really saw him fitting in with the 'Round Table conspiracy posse'.

J5, it's good to see another reviewer. Thanks, and I will finish this fic, no matter the delays!

Lennox, I'm also glad you noticed the 'man killing monsters' theme, especially in this context. I'm definitely going to be expanding on that as the story continues. And thanks for the reassurance about me not stu-ing it. I hate those silly fanfics. Well, hate is a bit too strong a word, but I still would dislike having written one unintentionally. And yeah, Walter will be back, just not within the next few chapters or so. I'm going to be going into the Alucard/Anderson fight, so unless Millennium feels like interfering, Walter will be staying put for a while.

* * *

Rip Van Winkle staggered down the streets of London; her wounds slowly healing as she left the Tower in the distance. She had accomplished Alucard's orders, hadn't she? Islands was dead, or rather, re-killed, and she had helped to hold him off until Seras had arrived. During the Islands' last stand though, she knew that retreat was the most prudent course of action, and had managed to limp away in the shadows, using her musket to support herself. 

_Indeed, you did accomplish your mission_, came the voice of Alucard, passing through her thoughts and doubts with ease_. It's also nice to see that you had the good sense to escape as well. I doubt Seras or Pickman would have approved of sparing you otherwise_.

_And our deal?_ Asked Rip.

_You have fulfilled your contract_, replied her master_. It seems that, this time, Kaspar succeeded in swapping another's life for his, or rather her, own existence. Even with your freedom however, I trust that you will still join my entourage?_

_What?_

_Just an amusing side project_, remarked Alucard. _After all, the world will be so dull after all this is over. Speaking of which, it appears as though the conclusion of this particular act has come. You had best hurry back to reclaim your soul. There may not be that much time left for you to do so_.

Alucard then cut the connection, leaving Rip to wonder what it had been he was speaking of.

* * *

Hundreds of spear-wielding ghouls milled about Trafalgar Square. The corpses of thousands, vampires, soldiers, and civilians, lay in heaps, trophies of the battle. Integra stood beside Alucard in the center of the madness, unfazed by the gore and insanity surrounding her. 

"He's here." Spoke Alucard simply, gaze focused on the northern end of the square.

"That's right, vampire!" Boomed the voice of Alexander Anderson, as he and his paladins stepped into view. "It's time that we ended this!"

"I couldn't agree more," responded Alucard, enthusiastically. "But first, the battlefield must be set."

He held up his hands to the darkened sky, summoning an unearthly wind. It swept across the square, dragging along the thousands of corpses with it. With a swish, the bodies were flung like dolls into the air, nearly touching the barrier of darkness above. Alucard swept downwards with his arms. Immediately, spears of darkness rained from above, striking the bodies with unerring accuracy.

With a crash, the first spear struck the ground, cracking the pavement with unnatural force, a corpse impaled through the center. Thousands more followed, creating a rainfall of the impaled. Blood drenched the ground, and spears forested the square, yet Anderson and his paladins were untouched, and the path between he and Alucard, who stood in the center of the forest, towering above it with his presence alone, was still clear.

"The impaler," whispered Heinkel. "Father Anderson, is he truly…?" The paladin simply nodded a confirmation.

"Next," spoke Alucard. "You have brought forward your army, so I must summon mine." With that, ghouls burst forth from the shadows. An impossible number of the undead weaved between the spears, forming a solid line between Alucard and the Iscariots.

"Lastly," he concluded. "The general, the prince, the count; he must appear to lead his troops into battle." Darkness flooded around Alucard, obscuring his form, within a tornado of shadows. The shadows peeled away moments later, solidifying and shattering in the wind. A new Alucard walked through the ranks of ghouls, parting them with each step. Anderson stepped forwards as well, meeting him between the two forces.

He took a moment to look at Alucard's latest transformation, or was it his original form? Black armor now encased the elder vampire. His hat and glasses were gone, replaced by a beard and mustache. A count of the darkness stood before a paladin of the light, a forest of the dead, and an army of the damned surrounding them.

Integra walked through the ghouls with ease, stopping behind Alucard. The count turned to face her, kneeling before the one whom he had acknowledged as his master. Anderson stepped back, too absorbed in the moment to interfere.

"A tribute to you," explained Alucard, gesturing at the impaled littering the square. "To commemorate your choice to finally join me, to symbolize your future reign, the choice that you had made in your heart of hearts ten years ago, the moment that you released me back into the world, the minute that you became my countess, my master."

"You may rise, count." Spoke Integra, feeling oddly focused for such a bizarre occasion, yet unsure of her servant's words. "Your work is not yet finished. There are still enemies to destroy, and I would require you to destroy them."

"But of course." Alucard rose as Integra stepped back, disappearing the overlapping lines of ghouls.

"Heinkel, Yumie, step back." Ordered Anderson. "Only I must face this demon. You need not waste your lives." The Iscariots silently stepped backwards, following their leader's orders.

"Are you ready?" Asked Alucard.

"As ready as I shall ever be, Dracula." Spoke Anderson, addressing Alucard by his old name. "It is time that I fulfill my mission, the mission of the Holy-Mother Church, the will of our Lord Himself."

"Dracula?" Said Alucard. "I gave up that name long ago. When Abraham Van Hellsing brought my existence to an end, that name went with it."

"Then I shall bring about yet another end to your existence, Alucard."

Alucard drew a broadsword from its hilt on his side, trading his guns for the weapons of his currently adopted form. Anderson pulled a pair of bayonets from his coat, holding the weapons as a cross. Scripture flew from his coat, loosely drifting around him.

"Our mission is to destroy any and all threats to our revered church and True Faith. To accomplish this, our means betray the commandments, kill innocents, and we are forced to exist in secrecy as a necessary shame. We are the cursed followers of Judas Iscariot, yet our role is needed for His will to carry throughout the world."

He broke his stance, leveling a bayonet at Alucard. "Yet you are not a threat to be fought from the shadows, with the shadows of the Church. You are a creature of the darkness and misery, an open threat to God's will. I will not fight you as a paladin of the dark order of Iscariot, but as a knight of the church proper, a human fighting a monster."

Alucard smiled, enduring the paladin's long-winded speech with amusement. "Good!" He acknowledged. "Show me this revered spirit of yours!"

With that, Anderson leapt into action, thrusting forwards with his right bayonet. Alucard sidestepped the charge, using his sword to catch the ensuring slash from Anderson's left weapon.

Anderson spun away before Alucard could counter-attack, forcing the vampire to charge at him, sword held high. A thrown pair of bayonets forced the vampire to block and dodge, retreating while Anderson reached into his coat for fresh weapons.

He quickly took advantage of range, throwing a stream of bayonets at Alucard. The vampire dodged and weaved around them, yet a stray weapon still scraped across his shoulder armor, leaving a mark on the unholy equipment.

Anderson moved to press the advantage, reaching into his coat for a double-handful of projectiles. A strand of darkness leaked from the scrape in Alucard's armor, shifting over Alucard like a snake.

They launched their attacks simultaneously, a spear of darkness poured towards Anderson from Alucard's shoulder wound, passing the through the storm of bayonets harmlessly.

Anderson's attention focused on Alucard's attack. In an instant, a shield of scripture flooded from his sleeves, keeping the darkness at bay. At the same time, Alucard was forced to leap aside from Anderson's attack, letting up his own assault in favor of evasion.

Anderson charged Alucard as soon as the darkness faded against his scripture shield, sending pages burning around him with unholy flames. Alucard parried the first stab, only to fall prey to the second. The bayonet blade cut through his chest plate with holy fire, cutting through the armor as if it didn't exist.

Alucard's form shifted around the blade, darkening as the vampire began to melt into shadows. He drifted away from the blade, dissolving into a mass of darkness.

"You're not getting away from me!" Shouted Anderson. He reached into his coat, dropping his current weapons in the process. He pulled out a handful of bayonets, tossing them recklessly into the air. The holy instruments seemed to zero-in on Alucard though, arcing in midair to intercept him. Anderson watched in anticipation as the weapons cut through the darkness as streaks of righteous light.

Gunfire sounded, followed by the shattering of bayonets. The weapons blew apart in mid-air, victims of a barrage of gunfire coming from within the fog. The barrel of Alucard's Jackal appeared from the shadows, followed by his gloves and red coat-sleeves. Alucard's full form left the shadows, reverted to it's earlier self. Anderson pulled another pair of bayonets from his coat, raising them in a defensive stance.

Alucard shifted his aim, casually blasting away Anderson's blades with a pair of Jackal rounds. The Casull sounded next, a trio of rounds striking Anderson's unguarded chest and shoulders. Finally, he fired his last two Jackal rounds at Anderson's face. The paladin lifted his left arm to intercept the shots, only to have it ripped apart under the heavy rounds. The bullets passed through the muscle and nerve tissue, weakened enough to merely send Anderson to the ground in a bloody heap rather than destroy his skull.

The holy warrior stood up slowly, blood streaming down his face, and his arm a mess.

"Is this all you've got?" Taunted Alucard. "Are you really too weak to defeat me?"

Anderson looked down at his arm. Huge chunks of flesh had been blown apart near his elbow. The sleeve of his coat was in tatters, and it seemed as if the limb was still attached only by a thread. He tried to move his fingers, only to find that the nerves had been severed. His regeneration ability would take hours to completely fix the incredible damage.

"Nothing's changed." Responded Anderson resolutely. "At least this time the arm's still attached. Even minus an arm, you'll still fall at my hands."

Alucard grinned, making a leap back behind his seemingly infinite army of ghouls. His voice boomed over the area, carrying over to Anderson with ease.

"Wonderful!" He praised. "You have it, don't you? The strength to back up an indomitable spirit! Excellent! Now, show me that will! An army stands before you! Destroy them! Let nothing prevent you from reaching me! Let nothing prevent you from piercing my heart with one of your holy tools! Let nothing prevent you from ending me once more! Five hundred years, one hundred years, fifty years, nothing's changed indeed! In the end, nothing ever changes! Now, show me!"

"As you wish!" Anderson charged forwards at Alucard's army, intent on ending the immortal vampire once and for all, a trail of scripture in his wake.

He tore through the ghouls like a living blade, charging and slashing into them after opening the line with a barrage of bayonets. The ghouls encircled him, yet he lashed out with his good arm, creating a whirlwind of movement. The soulless minions fell in heaps around him, unable to bring guns and spears to bear on the fast-moving paladin. Anderson ignored the pain of gunshots and growing nerves, concentrating only on the battle.

The ghoul formation broke, however another line still faced Anderson. This time a row of musketeers stood before him, guns readied at a distance. He charged, weaved, and threw as many bayonets as he could muster; yet he couldn't prevent a crushing musket volley from striking him. He fell to his knees, stunned by the deadly shot, tasting blood and gunpowder in his mouth.

Cavalry thundered past the musketeers, spears and swords leveled towards the wounded Anderson. He stood up, feebly lifting his left arm to match his right in a defensive stance. He slashed apart the lead horse, thrusting and leaping to give his wounded arm the momentum it needed to cut through the zombified steed while delivering a final blow to the rider with his right bayonet. Three more horses galloped towards him though, riders ready to overwhelm Anderson with sheer numbers.

A pair of silver bullets bailed out the paladin, blowing apart one of the horsemen. A blur of movement leapt over Anderson's head next, wielding a katana to slash apart another horseman. The reinforced paladin finished off the last one with a thrown bayonet to the forehead. Heinkel and Yumie stood beside him, ready to further aid their superior, the other surviving paladins behind them.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Anderson. "There's no need for you people to die here as well."

Heinkel shook her head in discontentment at the paladin's words. "Even if we were gutless enough to retreat," she answered him. "There's nowhere to retreat to anyways. Our place is here."

"This is our purpose, isn't it?" Continued Yumie. "If this is our alter, then we must cast our silver upon it. It's our final mission under the mandate of Section XIII."

Anderson smiled at the two girls with a warmth usually reserved for his non-combat state.

"It's good to have you out here." He said. "I suppose that the more silver we can cast upon this alter of London, the better we can bury this undead plague."

He held up his left hand, watching the fingers jerk involuntarily as the nerves reconnected and rebuilt. Yet the bayonet remained firmly gripped, held by faith. He thrust the blade forwards, directing the point in the direction of Alucard, waiting beyond the ghouls.

"You know the drill," Anderson addressed his men. "This battle is not one of necessity for us Iscariots. Win or lose, our end shall be the same, be it our halters or theirs. Instead, we must fight with will and faith. We need not win; we choose to do so. Now, forwards! We must crush this dead army, and dead fortress, at its cold heart! To Dracula! To Alucard!"

The Iscariots blitzed forwards, plowing through the lines with blade and bullet. Alucard watched Anderson lead his men with amazement.

"You're him, aren't you?" Alucard asked him silently. "I wasn't sure of it before, but the memories are becoming clearer with each passing moment. So much nostalgia… Nothing ever changes, ever."

* * *

A/N: Well, first chapter back, and it's a doozy of a one to write. I'm a tad rusty, so it would be great to get some reviews; opinions of what is going on, reported typos and the like. Whatever works is cool. 


	50. Chapter 48: Recollection

Author's Note: Yes, it is good to be back… But now I face my greatest challenge. I am going to single-handily rip apart Hellsing continuity and put it back together while trying not to make an ass of myself. Wish me luck, and don't hesitate to critique.

Darthjag, thanks. It's great to be back. And I did make a mistake. I thought I had seen volume 9, but it was merely the last chapter of 8 'Might and Magic', in which Alucard and a transformed Anderson (Thornderson, or something) fight in a battle of unparalleled coolness. Summaries of volume 9 are beginning to appear though… I just haven't found anything yet. Sorry for getting your hopes up… (Volume 9, chapter 1 has the best cover picture though!)

Nythology, thanks for noticing the battle scenes. I love writing em' and hope to continuously improve. Another thank you for the compliment on characters. Keeping them in-character is tough, I'm left praying that I pulled it off correctly. As for Millennium logistics… meh, I figure they only lost 10 or so guys on the _Eagle_, Rip included. It was a relatively small operation after all(that, and I hate Millennium logistics. If they have a few more men than usual, just chalk it up to freak-vampire reinforcements or something, no wait, a wizard did it!).

Zaisha, imagery and drama were the main focus of that chapter. I just love writing that kind of flowery language, tossing in metaphors and impalement. It's just the type of thing I could see them doing, so I write so. As for Alucard's line… Well, for better or worse, I'm explaining that this chapter, God help me.

* * *

"Get out of my way!" Screamed Anderson, letting loose a bayonet from his right hand. The blade struck one of the endless ghouls, sending it to the ground. Dozens more replaced it though, a nearly impenetrable wall of undead flesh facing the paladin. 

"This is endless!" Observed Heinkel, blasting herself a path alongside Anderson to his right. Yumie was on his left, her katana slicing through ghouls as she charged and weaved through their ranks. The other paladins covered the rear, suppressing any attempts to surround the group.

"Enough of this!" Anderson roared. The paladin reached into his coat with both hands, pulling out a pair of bayonets. These bayonets were attached by chain back to his coat's seemingly infinite interior. He flung both weapons into the ghouls, sending them through small gaps in the line. The chains dragged out more bayonets from his coat, creating two lines of the weapons flying past the shoulders of ghouls.

The handles of the lead pair exploded, creating a chain reaction amongst the other projectiles. The ghouls were shattered in a massive string of explosions, ending right in front of Anderson. The Iscariots poured through the newly opened lines, holding off the ghouls long enough for Anderson to break through to Alucard.

"Excellent work!" Praised Alucard. "You've conquered my army, and stand before me at last. But do you have the power to defeat me within that broken and imperfect body of yours?"

Anderson reached into his coat yet again, this time withdrawing his final surprise. He held up the package that Maxwell had given him earlier.

"I," he said, "have all the power needed to destroy you. Right here."

Alucard looked inquisitively at the package. "Is this your trump card?" He asked, voice dripping with anticipation.

The casing of the package began to shatter within Anderson's grip. Fragments chipped away, revealing an ancient nail within Anderson's hand. The relic was old, yet glowed with a light of utmost purity and power.

Alucard's face changed from anticipation to disgust. "Elena's Nail," he spat. "Is this your master plan?"

"Indeed it is!" Announced Anderson, holding the relic before him. "This most holy relic pierced our Lord and Savior. A component of the True Cross, the blood of God flows within this nail, and it shall soon receive a new host!" He readied the nail to stab himself.

"Stop!" Thundered Alucard. Remarkably, Anderson did so.

Alucard's tone was mixed with regret and disappointment. "Do you truly plan on infusing yourself with the true essence of holy, to become a monster, an agent of the divine? This world needs no more monsters, especially ones created to do battle with their own kind. Do you really think that infusing yourself with such power will solve anything? Do you really think that you can die here, a miraculous savior? Monsters, God-fearing or not, are still monsters. The best you could hope to do is replace me with your foolishness."

His tone changed to mocking. "And besides," he added. "Would you willingly leap into death's grip, merely knowing that your actions would ensure my downfall? You did not, the last time we fought like this, all those years ago. The gun was in your mouth, and you had control over your own actions. All it would have taken was a quick pull of the trigger, and your suffering would have ended."

"Im-impossible," stuttered Anderson. "Fifty-four years ago, that was you?"

"You humans place such importance on form to recollect identity. Mind you, I barely just remembered you myself. Arthur's seal dampened quite a few of my memories from that time. Allow me to present you with a visual aid to speed your recognition."

Alucard's form shifted yet again. His clothes whitened, and his hair fell backwards smoothly. The clothes then changed, his coat shifting and shrinking along with his form. When the transformation completed, Anderson faced a much more… androgynous vampire, one whom he remembered quite clearly from a previous encounter…

"Brother Renaldo!" Anderson had shouted at the time, watching as the twenty-year old Iscariot agent, his charge, fell to the ground, slammed aside by the so seemingly fragile monster confronting them. Anderson stood before a feminine vampire, dressed in a white suit and coat, adorned with a white cap as well. Such style seemed out of place in their current settings, but such evil held blending with little regard. The Santa Adhemar monastery towered around them, the courtyard their battlefield.

"Iscariots are you?" Queried the vampire, voice smooth enough to make distinguishing gender barely possible. "I've never had the honor of teaching you Catholic fools before."

"O' Lord, protect me from this blasphemy," muttered Anderson, pulling a pair of weapons from his coat. The first was a bayonet blade, silver-treated and blessed after coming into his possession. The second was a revolver, one of a pair that made up the first guns to be modified for combat against vampires.

"Well now," taunted the vampire. "You have the proper tools, but do you have the power, or will, to defeat me?"

"Faith is my will, and the Lord is my strength." Replied Anderson. "This is power enough to vanquish any foe."

"Maybe, but faith and God can't stop bullets." With that, the vampire pulled a Thompson M1 from his suit, letting loose a torrent of bullets from it's drum magazine.

Anderson leaped aside as the first round was fired, rolling away from the barrage. Before the vampire could track him, Anderson fired, catching the vampire with a silver bullet to the heart. The creature recoiled, ceasing fire.

"How utterly pathetic of you, blocking my path to freedom." Said the vampire, completely un-amused. "Just move aside now before the task of killing you further delays me. The angel will be here any mome-" Another gunshot rung out, striking the vampire's jaw.

"Shut up, you damned monster." Ordered Anderson. The soldier of Iscariot lowered his smoking gun and charged the vampire, lashing out with his bayonet. The ensuing battle took all of Anderson's skill and weapons, and neither side fared well in its conclusion.

Anderson collapsed to his knees, trio of bullet holes in his abdomen. His coat fluttered away in the breeze, ripped apart by a hellish explosion of energy from his foe. The vampire was in similar straits, a bayonet pinning him to the wall by piercing his heart. The shadows writhed around the wound, yet the vampire didn't have the energy to recover.

"Heh," the vampire chuckled weakly, blood staining it's effeminate face. "I really underestimated you. But you haven't truly won. Those wounds are rather serious. A long and painful death awaits you. However, I'm willing to let you off easy, just so that I can watch you die before they arrive to recover me."

Anderson could feel the grip of darkness over his hands, moving them with the power that he lacked in his current state. The hands clutched the barrel of the vampire's Thompson, lifting it by the barrel. Anderson held the gun before him, his mind fogged with pain and the vampire's hypnotic powers. He held the gun to his mouth, opening it to allow the barrel entry. His left hand held the weapon steady, his right pressed awkwardly against the trigger.

"It's your choice," said the vampire, becoming almost giddy in defeat. "I'll give you three seconds of control over your left arm before I have you pull the trigger." His shadow seemed to grow in Anderson's view, towering above him. It was different reflection in that shadow, wildly flowing hair, and a long, billowing coat.

Anderson was tempted to let it end. He had defeated the vampire after all. What more was there now to his duty than to hang from his halter, having cast aside the devil-born silver? He clenched his teeth, feeling the cold steel of the barrel, and decided that it was his time.

A sudden burst of pain and inspiration consumed him, forcing him to reconsider his choice. His duty was to God and His Church. Although he could die here with honor, such surrender would be a self-betrayal. He lifted the barrel from his mouth, forcing the wounded limb to move through sheer strength of will.

He let the gun drop over his chest, having no more energy to move it. He counted the seconds, one remaining. He spoke, the vampire temporarily ceasing the count to listen.

"God is patient," he choked out. "He can… judge me in his own time… not a trip to be decided by either of us…" Upon his conclusion, the gun fired, sending Anderson sprawling to the ground, wounded further.

"A pity," spoke the vampire, sounding certain that Anderson could no longer listen. "He made an entertaining opponent, hardly the next Van Hellsing, but an admirable human nonetheless."

Other voices entered the scene, but his hearing failed him. The last words he could distinguish came from two men, conversing above him.

"So, mercenary, you say he's one of the Iscariots?" Asked the first man. Anderson failed to recognize him, his vision fading with his consciousness.

"Yes," replied the second. "I met up with him earlier, chasing the same prey as us."

"Then the least we could do is send him back to the Catholic operatives in this area. They'd take care of him; perhaps stabilize him enough to give him one last look at the world. We do owe this man for defeating our quarry after all."

Anderson's view faded almost instantly after, leaving him to wake up in Vatican hands, the victim of a new and revolutionary experimental treatment, a curse that he carried in his mind and body for the next fifty-four years to come.

"So, do you remember?" Came the voice of Alucard, dragging him back to the present. Anderson's mind focused on the current situation. Alucard was shifting back to his red-coated form, and he still held the nail firmly in his good hand.

"I do, vampire." Spoke Anderson, unsure of what to do. "I didn't die that day, although I wished that I had ever since. I was forced into a cheap, inhuman mockery of an existence; hatred for your kind became my only reason for survival. I want, wanted, death, and this nail seemed to be the ideal means of carrying that out. My duty would remain pure, and my death not a betrayal to God, myself, or the church."

"Do you still carry this opinion?" Asked Alucard, hope almost appearing in his voice.

"No," answered Anderson. "Regenerator or not, I am still human, and the situation is the same as it was back then. What was it that you said, in a battle that seemed to have taken place a lifetime ago? Am I a man, a dog, or a monster? Well, it appears that I am obligated to prove that I am man enough to defeat you. " He put away the nail, storing it safely in his coat.

"Good choice, human." Acknowledged Alucard. "It seems that I was right about you after all. You could very well be the one to defeat me! I want you to prove that! Use all the power you can muster! A regenerator, fusion of human spirit and inhuman physical power, made perfect by you! Let the victor of this surely ultimate battle go on to destroy Millennium and either save or condemn humanity!"

Anderson, although he couldn't understand Alucard's motivation, still acknowledged the vampire's challenge. He held a pair of bayonets firmly, his left arm hardly a hindrance anymore, and charged.

* * *

A/N: Well, alert the canon police to take me away. If I haven't already ostracized myself amongst the Hellsing elitists, this chapter should surely accomplish that. But at least I covered that long annoying 'green scene' that left so many people angry at the anime, and this is the anime universe, so I suppose some liberties are forgivable, hopefully…

Well, review regardless. I would really like to know how I did with this; cause re-inventing Anderson like this is a serious, really serious, move. I mean it; I'm really worried about this one. That, and I'm annoyed that I have to keep dipping into my prequel fic before even putting it on paper.


	51. Chapter 49: Falling

Author's Note: Well, after a really long break, I'm finally back, and ready to include the epic conclusion to the battle between Anderson and Alucard. But first, I'll answer my reviews.

Lennox, I can only hope to write a decent action-conclusion to this whole thing, as I've certainly given it enough back-story and preparation. As for the prequel, I really haven't started writing it yet. It's mostly just a collection of thoughts inside my mind, though that Anderson scene will (obviously) be one of the concluding events, though you'll notice that I left plenty of room to edit and expand on it. And yeah, it's good to be back, however temporarily.

Zaisha, thanks for the reassurance. I was, and still am, worried about how that scene went. Big Brother and his canon police are everywhere, and I feel an obligation to at least, if I'm rewriting the plot, do it well. Bang on with the 'mercenary' remark, though I was trying to keep it subtle, as it was Anderson's scene. And yeah, it seems as though the prequel device is becoming more and more common. This, although not intended as a publicity stunt, will certainly function as one.

Aznpuffyhair (My spellchecker hated that one), thanks for the review. There's no need to worry about me going on a killing spree (unless I get really, really, bored of writing). I like how you noticed the earlier improbability of Seras going postal. To tell you the truth, there is something more to that than meets the eye. I'll admit as well that I'm painting Alucard as a villain thus far, but he really is an anti-hero at best, and I do have plans to focus the antagonism back on Millennium.

And lastly, Sesshy's Girl, thank you. It's always great to hear that someone enjoyed the fic, although I can't really make many promises about the update rate. You can all rest assured that it won't die though!

Well, onto the story.

* * *

The bridge of the _Hindenburg II_ was in pandemonium. The tactical map of London, formerly showing only Millennium units, had erupted into logistical insanity as the British and Millennium troops divided while the forces of Alucard swept through the city. The Major stood in the center of it all, reveling in the panic and fear of his subordinates.

"Sir!" Shouted out the chief communications officer, relaying reports from the ground. "The situation on the ground is starting to stabilize. Lieutenant Wittman has taken direct command of the main body of our remaining forces, a combination of the 2nd and 3rd companies numbering 230 men at present count. Our other forces are either dead, or scattered across the city in small units."

"Very well," acknowledged the Major. "And the British?"

"We believe that their forces have been similarly halved by this new threat. In addition, with the exception of a group still headed for the Tower of London, they're beginning to retreat from the city."

"It's just as well," commented the Major. "It's good that at least some of them will survive to endure the hell to come." He truly couldn't care less what happened to the Round Table's usurping force. They were less than a distraction when compared to Alucard and his beautifully insane powers. The main observation monitor was focused on the standoff between Alucard and Anderson, a constant diversion for the Major's command.

"What will you do, Paladin?" He asked the screen. "I know that all must perish in this battle. London, Hellsing, even Millennium. In the end, it must be Alucard and I that remain standing. But still, that boy has exceeded all expectations. He may even kill Alucard and ruin everything! Doc!"

The scientist answered the summons immediately, dashing to the Major's side. "Yes?" He asked.

"Send the Captain over there," the Major ordered, pointing at the monitor. "If that silly paladin ends up winning, the Captain is to kill him, immediately."

"And should he aid Alucard if such an event seems likely?"

"No," the Major clapped his hands together. "This is no time to indulge in the weakness of our opposition. If Alucard wins, good, the plan proceeds. If the paladin wins, we must adapt."

"Very well," The Doc turned away.

"Oh, one more thing." The Major cut in. "Did you catch the time?"

The Doc turned around. "Should I prepare your morning meal? Or rather, get the butler to do it?"

The Major laughed at the prospect of his old enemy preparing food for him. "No, no," he said, his humor an abnormality in the desperate situation. "As good as it would no doubt be, I would rather you work with your _full expertise_ on this meal to celebrate this most glorious occasion."

"Ah," the Doc seemed a bit surprised. "That is, I'll be preparing _that_?"

"Yes," confirmed the Major. "We must accelerate our plans accordingly with these latest events. As well, we must capture Integra Hellsing. The Captain is to see to that as well, pending Alucard's victory."

"Yes," acknowledged the Doc. "I'll see to it immediately." He turned and left the Major to watch the coming battle.

"Now it all comes down to you two," said the Major. "I do hope you'll at least provide a good show."

* * *

Paladin Alexander Anderson and the vampire Alucard stood face to face in the center of Trafalgar Square. Alucard's minions backed away from the confrontation, leaving Integra and the Iscariots free to observe, but not to interfere with, the coming duel.

The pre-battle pleasantries had already been exchanged far too many times to be worth invoking now, in this final battle, and neither combatant was interested in doing so anyways. They simply stood, each waiting for the other to begin.

Anderson decided to lead the battle, opening up with a flurry of scripture from his coat. Small knives flew from his sleeves, pinning the pages to the ground, walls, and even the odd impaled corpse. The holy influence of the scripture clashed against Alucard's darkness, marking the battlefield equally theirs.

Alucard, far too powerful for mere tricks like scripture to affect, smirked, raising his guns to shoot the paladin. Anderson was faster though. Reaching into his coat with both hands, the paladin tossed handfuls of bayonets between he and Alucard, the blades scattering like chaff.

Alucard let loose with the Casull and Jackal, filling the air with bullets, yet a combined storm of bayonets and scripture drifted between the shots and their target, forming a nearly impenetrable barrier. Anderson looked on in safety while Alucard wasted his ammo, waiting for the resounding click of an emptied clip before charging through the storm to attack.

Torn scripture and broken bayonets rained around Anderson as he charged at the vampire, blades held above his head. Alucard's Jackal parried the first blow, the vampire sliding the bayonet along the gun's barrel to redirect it. Anderson's second bayonet however, thrust forwards, grazing Alucard's side as he stepped back from the paladin's reach.

Alucard, unfazed by the minor injury, leapt back from Anderson, sailing through the air to land atop one of the spears littering the ground. He put his guns away, ducking a moment later to avoid a pair of bayonets thrown his way.

"Good effort," remarked Alucard. "But you'll need to step it up if you would hope to destroy me." An aura of darkness covered the vampire, followed moments later by unearthly eyes beginning to open around his form, each gazing at Anderson with an impossible intensity. Yet the paladin did not flinch under the insanity of Alucard's power, throwing a fresh pair of bayonets instead.

The bayonets struck Alucard's chest, but the vampire neither flinched nor fell from his precarious perch. His chest swelled around the holy weapons imbedded in it, bursting in a spray of dark blood as a hellhound emerged from the wound. The monstrous extension of Alucard leapt towards Anderson, still attached to the vampire through a tether of darkness.

A stream of scripture poured from Anderson's sleeves, halting the hellhound just before it could bite into him. He then thrust a bayonet through the scripture, striking the familiar. He spun over to the beast's side, slicing down with a pair of bayonets to sever its connection to Alucard. The tether gone, the vampiric extension dissipated into fog.

"It'll take more than that to beat me, vampire!" Taunted Anderson, trying to goad Alucard into another close-range battle.

"Oh?" Boomed Alucard's voice, amplified as it passed through the growing aura. "As it so happens, I have much more." With that, two multi-eyed hellhounds burst from his shoulders, another pair forming from his sides. Anderson readied his weapons as the quartet shot towards him, leaking blood and darkness as a product of their twisted existence.

A handful of bayonets struck the approaching beasts, yet didn't faze them. A flurry of scripture was brushed aside with ease by the vampiric energies. Finally, knowing that to defend or retreat would be suicide, Anderson launched himself into the center of the dark formation. In mid-leap, he held out his bayonets and forced himself into a spin, cutting through the hellhounds and their connections to Alucard. He landed on his feat before Alucard, the hellhounds vanishing into darkness behind him.

"Impressive as usual," Alucard praised. "It isn't often that an opponent won't succumb to fear in my presence."

"You have nothing that merits fear." Said Anderson. "Your brand of dark magic is useless against an opponent that won't be intimidated by it."

"Hardly," replied Alucard. "This power can kill the brave just as easily as it does cowards. It's just more fun this way. In fact, allow me to show you the full extent of my powers!" Alucard leapt down at Anderson, completely obscured by the darkness of his aura.

Anderson thrust the point of his right bayonet up to meet Alucard, yet the force of the vampire's presence alone seemed to deter the weapon from it's target. Anderson's aim shifted uncontrollably, allowing Alucard to land. Trying to reverse the vampire's newfound momentum, Anderson charged again, only to find that his weapons were unable to cut through the darkness surrounding his foe. Alucard lashed out with his arms, shattering the bayonets with unprecedented force.

Anderson leapt back, realizing that he had far underestimated Alucard's close-range power, yet the vampire's form seemed to merge with the air itself, allowing him to trail the paladin closely, breaking through the his defenses one hastily replaced bayonet after another.

Anderson was growing desperate as Alucard continued his relentless offensive. He began to make use of every available tool, throwing vials of holy water, communion wafers, and even a large bible at Alucard in an attempt to gain control of the battle. The vials shattered as they hit Alucard, but the water refused to burn through the darkness surrounding him. The communion wafers, an effective barrier against weaker vampires, proved to be completely useless against the evil Alucard had wrapped around himself. Even the heavy bible couldn't halt him, ripping and burning as it struck the vampire. Anderson could only just retrieve his bayonets before Alucard resumed his attack.

A single slash of Alucard's arm tore across the bayonets, breaking them apart with ease. Before Anderson could either retreat or replace the weapons, Alucard struck the paladin's chest with a brutal thrust, darkness covered fingers plunging into the regenerator's flesh with ease. Anderson fell to the ground, slowly recovering from the attack's speed and intensity.

"What's wrong?" Mocked Alucard. "Is that it? Are you afraid now? Are you, the only human capable of standing against this kind of power, defeated?"

"Not by a long shot." Choked out Anderson, rising to his feet. "I still have one last trick up my sleeves." He reached into his coat, pulling out a detonator wired to the inside of his coat. "Goodbye, vampire." He said, and then pulled the trigger, holding both arms forward to face the puzzled Alucard.

A sudden gust of wind swept across the square, puffing out Anderson's sleeves as he faced down Alucard. A single page of scripture flew from the bottom of Anderson's coat, quickly followed by a flood of holy writ that flew over to surround and envelope Alucard. A bayonet burst from Anderson's right sleeve with an explosive crack, striking Alucard. Another fired from his left sleeve, striking the enveloped vampire again. Within moments, bayonets were pouring from the paladin's sleeves, forming an almost solid stream of silver to assault Alucard.

Alucard fended off the first few seconds of the assault, repelling the holy weapons with all of his power, yet the blades continued to strike him, piercing the shadows he had wrapped around himself. Anderson was wearing out as well under the attack, his coat ripping apart and his chest and arms covered in nicks, grazes, and burns from the explosively fired projectiles.

Finally Alucard collapsed to his knees, covered from head to toe in bayonet blades. Anderson's last bayonet flew just as his coat finished disintegrating from the stress of the attack. Bloody hands caught the weapon before it could leave Anderson's reach, the paladin choosing to keep the tool to finish off Alucard. Elena's Nail, the only object remaining in his coat, fell to the ground, the clack echoing in the silence surrounding the battlefield.

The Iscariots silently cheered Anderson's triumph as the paladin stepped towards Alucard, the vampire trying feebly to remove the bayonets that were weakening him. Integra looked on, her eyes showing no pity for her defeated servant.

"It's over," spoke Anderson, standing tall above Alucard.

"Still though," said Alucard weakly. "It was an excellent battle." He was far too weak to regenerate from what the paladin had planned for a finisher.

Anderson nodded, raising his blade to strike. "In nomine Patris-" He began, bringing the blade down through Alucard's shoulder. "-et Filii-" Another strike stabbed through Alucard's heart. "-et Spiritus-" The blade stabbed into Alucard's neck, preparing the finishing blow. "Sancti." He twisted the blade, readying to finish off Alucard via decapitation.

The crack of a gunshot filled the air, interrupting Anderson's victory. A shot, brilliant white light trailing it, came down upon Anderson, striking him through the center of his chest. It punched through the area already wounded by Alucard with ease, looping around to pierce the paladin's hand, destroying fingers and breaking his hold on the bayonet in Alucard's neck. Anderson dropped to his knees, stunned by the surprise attack.

"Amen," finished Alucard, now standing over Anderson with renewed strength. The paladin of Iscariot reached from one of the hundreds of bayonets littering the ground, yet he found that his right hand was too torn up to grasp it. His left arm, weakened and held up by Anderson's will alone for the entire battle, finally gave in as well, refusing to obey his mental commands. His vision swam in and out of focus and blood poured freely from his wounded chest. He lowered his head, desperate to grab a weapon by any means possible, but his mind lacked the focus to grasp one even with his teeth.

Alexander Anderson fell backwards, cursing both Alucard and his own failure to finish him. The darkness consumed his vision, sending him into jaws of defeat once more.

* * *

A/N: Well, this chapter was long in the making, yet didn't really conclude anything, and really, that was the hardest part. Well, you know the drill, review, review, review. 


	52. Chapter 50: Seconds

Author's Note: Well, I'm back at last. Exams are over, which means I'm in the clear for three weeks of fairly continuous writing. Sorry to have cut off like that at such a vital moment, but I'm back for now, and will finish this if it kills me!

Thess(I'm still pretty giddy at having gotten a review from you): Thank you. I have to admit that characterization has been the main challenge in trying to bridge the anime and manga universes. Alucard's in particular, as in the manga he is indeed wrapped up in a certain role that he doesn't carry in the anime; though fundamentally, they are the same character, give or take development.

Zaisha, I can't wait to find out if your ideas of the Major's plan match mine. As for the Anderson-Alucard fight, all will be explained this chapter. Though really, Alucard was legitimately defeated, although for merely a short amount of time.

Nythology, it's always great to know I'm doing a decent job with the fights. I try to make it my strength, and I certainly will keep it up, no matter the length of interruptions.

Peter Kim, I agree wholeheartedly that Anderson should at least be proud of himself for beating Alucard, but in the end, Alucard still exists, and thus Anderson failed to kill him. Even if he came the closest (next to Van Hellsing that is), Anderson still failed himself by not landing the finishing blow. Though he may get another chance soon.

Darthjag, I have to admit, the communion wafer is far from original, but still, I have to wonder why no ones tried one on Alucard yet.

Lennox, you got me yet again on the nit-pick. One would think I'd get it after a while, but stress and impending exams sort of shorted my 'error-locating' abilities. Well, no matter. It's great to go for the epic style, and even better to know that I've succeeded. Indeed, it was a last-second interruption for Anderson, but that just makes it all the more dramatic. As always, it's great to hear from you.

Well, onto the story.

* * *

The Iscariots stood still in shock, their looks of triumph twisting into disbelief and rage as Alexander Anderson dropped to the ground, felled by an interloper in his moment of triumph.

Heinkel's vision was directed to the source of the shot that took down Anderson. A female vampire had appeared on a nearby rooftop, the long barrel of a musket still aimed down at Anderson and Alucard. Yumie ignored the interloper; her sight focused on Alucard, the vampire now standing and beginning to pull the bayonets from his body. The shock of this interruption was quickly turning into anger directed at the undead enemies before them.

Alucard looked down at Anderson, the paladin heavily injured by the shot that had torn through him. "Next time I suppose," he said, busy pulling bayonets out of himself. "You'll have to be content with that."

Yumie launched herself at Alucard with a cry of anger and disbelief. What should have been a final, honorable battle between Anderson and Alucard had been perverted by the vampire's filthy treachery. She would rather die than allow such shame and insult to befall the Iscariot Organization un-avenged. She and the other Iscariots were Anderson's seconds in this duel, and were now called upon to finish it with Alucard's betrayal in using an outsider to attack their leader.

Heinkel watched her partner charge at Alucard, sword held high above her head. She quickly resolved to help this insane move, taking aim and firing at the musket-wielding vampire on the nearby rooftop. Sparks lit up on the side of the building as bullets struck it, prompting the interloper to dive back for cover. Heinkel ran for the building, thinking it best to climb up and get the drop on her opponent, even if it left Yumie to face Alucard alone, they wouldn't have a chance if the interloper could pick them off mid-fight as she had done to Anderson.

Yumie's katana was a blur of movement as it came down upon Alucard in a vicious chop. The vampire ducked aside, still pulling bayonets from himself. Yumie rushed at him, keeping up the pressure with a series of slashes, all evaded as Alucard ducked, sidestepped, and backed away from the berserker's reckless attacks. The last of Anderson's bayonets were removed just as Yumie finally landed a blow, her blade catching Alucard's side.

The Iscariot smiled as she felt the katana tear through Alucard's innards. She put more force into the attack, dragging the blade through his blasphemous flesh with all of her strength, cleanly eviscerating the vampire. She then used the momentum of the strike to spin around, bringing herself back around to slash off the stunned vampire's head. She stepped back as the body fell to the ground, wary of any tricks that Alucard was still capable of pulling.

Laughter filled the air as Alucard's body melted into the shadows and began reforming. Yumie readied herself for another round with the vampire, knowing that he couldn't take much more punishment, even without the hindrance of Anderson's bayonets.

* * *

Heinkel dashed into the alleyway behind the building that Rip had fired from. Just as she reached for the fire-escape ladder, Rip jumped down at her from the roof, musket held downwards like a spear. Heinkel jumped back, avoiding the attack. Drawing a pair of Desert Eagles from her coat, she took aim as the vampire stood up.

"Out of my way." Ordered Rip, drawing herself to her full height, her numerous, still-healing, injuries proudly displayed evidence of her determination to make it to Alucard.

Heinkel however, was in no mood to be pushed around. She immediately opened fire in retaliation for the underhanded attack on Anderson. By now, Rip had regained most of her agility, twirling away from the shots and into cover behind a dumpster further back in the alley. Heinkel moved slowly after her, guns trained on Rip's cover.

She never made it though. As she neared the dumpster, the crack of a gunshot sounded and a light-covered round punched through the cover, aimed directly at her. She began to jump aside the instant she registered the sound of the shot, her speed taking her out of the shot's path. The round instead sped through the Iscariot's trailing coat, coming dangerously close to her as it passed. Heinkel would have breathed a sigh of relief, but knew she wasn't in the clear yet. The shot looped around, heading back towards her.

Heinkel dropped into a forward roll, the shot again zooming past her from behind as the motion carried her beyond the dumpster, nearly face-to-face with Rip. Seeing the shot begin to lazily loop around again, Heinkel reached out to grab Rip's arm in an attempt to drag the former Millennium Lieutenant into the bullet's path, dropping the gun held in her right hand in the process. What she had momentarily forgotten however, was that Rip was a vampire, excessively stronger than she could ever hope to be. The Iscariot quickly found her grip reversed, then she was pushed back into the open.

The bullet streaked across her front as she stumbled back, cutting across the front of her coat before lodging itself in brick. Heinkel fell against the wall, a thin trail of blood flowing from the cut.

Rip was not yet finished however. She raised her musket and charged out of cover, intent on stabbing through Heinkel. The Iscariot's eyes widened behind her glasses as the vampire charged. She still managed to react in time though, dropping into a crouch as the musket barrel soared overhead, cracking into the brick wall behind her. Heinkel thrust forwards with her left arm, a Desert Eagle still in her grip, and jammed the barrel into Rip's chest, pulling the trigger with no hesitation.

The loud bang of the shot echoed through the alleyway, and Rip was sent flying back, her hold on her weapon broken. Heinkel stood up; brushing against the musket still lodged in the wall, and leveled her gun on Rip as she began to rise from the last attack. Just as her grip tensed in preparation of pulling the trigger, a scream cut through the air, diverting Heinkel's attention.

_Yumie_! She realized in a panic. _Alucard must not have been as weakened as I had thought_! Knowing that Rip was still far from beaten, Heinkel chose to retreat rather than waste the time it would take to finish her. She reached into her coat, withdrawing a small stack of communion wafers. She then crushed them in her gloved grip, throwing the crumbs at Rip. They fell in a semi-circle around the recovering vampire, hopefully enough to keep her at bay. Heinkel then turned and ran from the alleyway, concern for her partner overpowering all other priorities.

* * *

A black fog filled the air around Yumie, cutting her off from the Iscariots behind, and the vampire before her. She held her stance as the world vanished around her; ready for anything from bullets to flying hellhounds, yet only silence and darkness reached her senses. The fog had become seemingly limitless, filling her vision.

"Vast, isn't it?" Came the disembodied voice of Alucard, booming out at her from all angles. "Yet so unbearably empty."

"What is this!" Shouted Yumie, her voice lashing out at the shadows.

"Hm?" Alucard's voice appeared again. "I'm surprised you don't recognize this place. You do, after all, spend most of your time here."

A thought struck Yumie. "This, this isn't the physical world is it?"

"I'm surprised you didn't figure it out sooner." Alucard then appeared before her, his hat and glasses returned in addition to the coat. It seemed as though his form was distancing itself from her, as if she was no longer worth fighting.

"I've chosen the battlefield for our continued duel," he explained. "And it is yours; the place where you're least familiar and most vulnerable. Imagine my surprise when I took a look into your thoughts and realized what you were!"

"My mind." She realized, remembering the psychic powers that vampires were known to possess. "You've taken me into my own mind?"

"Oh, but is it really yours?" Asked Alucard. "Are you not just a product of this vastness? Are you not just a child of the darkness in your host's heart? Do you really exist? Are your thoughts truly your own?"

Yumie shook her head, trying to clear the discomfort, but doubts assailed her mercilessly. "I am what I am." She finally said, raising her sword and breaking into a charge.

"Or are you?" He said confidently, waiting for the attack.

* * *

A/N: Well, I decided to keep the Iscariots going just a bit longer before jumping into the final battle with the Major. Call it procrastination or a chance at doing some character development, but I like it. 


	53. Chapter 51: Internal Conflict

Author's Note: Ah, back again. I was planning to work under a regular schedule. But the mother of all Christmas colds kept me down for all of last week. Thus, now that it's winding down, I can trust myself to write again.

Zaisha, actually, the reason I haven't bothered to press on with the plot yet is because I wanted to give Heinkel and Yumie some screen time. They're just fun to write in, and even more fun to develop.

Darthjag, I haven't forgotten about the nail, and indeed, there is a plethora of cast members to use it on. I still have my sights set on Anderson though, maybe give him another dilemma with it. As well, I wish you good fortune with your own writing endeavors.

Thess, yeah, Yumie's state of mind has always interested me, and I couldn't bear to continue without giving her some development. The question really is: Is Alucard really doing this with malicious intent? Though it is true, bastard or not, you can't hate Alucard.

* * *

The infinity that seemed to separate Yumie from Alucard closed rapidly as Yumie charged, feet gliding soundlessly over the non-existent surface. Alucard however, was hardly worried. He just looked on; his eyes shielded from hers through the barrier his glasses provided. 

Yumie slashed down at Alucard, not even stopping her charge, but the vampire easily sidestepped the blow. She passed by him, stopped, and then swung around again in a viscous blow aimed at his side. Alucard seemed to drift away from the blow though, fading into the darkness as the sword neared him.

"You're far too slow." He taunted, words echoing around her. "I suppose I should have expected no less from a façade."

"Shut up!" She screamed, losing control with her anger. Rage, something that had always empowered her, was proving useless against Alucard on this battlefield though.

Alucard again appeared before her, this time with guns raised. Yumie charged at him, yet the distance refused to close. Her legs started to slosh through the darkness as if it were water, hampering her movements considerably. She reached out at Alucard with a stab, yet the vampire dodged faster than her eyes could see. She came to a stop in front of him, only to see the barrels of his guns light up as they fired.

A crushing pain shot through her body as she was tossed back by the force of the bullets. She plunged down into the darkness, certain that she was dead. She soon realized however, was that she was physically unharmed. She stood up slowly, a sudden dizziness coming over her. Alucard still stood before her.

"What... was that?" She rasped, the pain and dizziness slowly fading in the aftermath of the shot.

"Just a taste of what's to come." Answered Alucard. He fired again, sending Yumie to her knees in agony.

"I can't physically harm you in here you know," he explained as Yumie slowly rose again. "This is not the physical plane. Bullets, fists, swords, none have any real affects here."

"Why can't I hit you?" Asked Yumie, holding a defensive stance. "If you're this strong here, then why didn't you just use this on Father Anderson?"

"For the simple fact that it would have backfired horribly," answered Alucard. "Willpower, mental agility, this is truly a realm of thoughts. As the attacker, I'm obviously at a disadvantage; a disadvantage that someone like him would have exploited with ease."

Yumie ran up to him, letting loose a series of stabs and slashes at Alucard, all dodged with casual ease. "Then why can't I fight you?" She screamed. "What's keeping me from beating you as he would?"

Alucard just smiled, retaliating with his guns. The gunshots flashed through the darkness, again sending Yumie to what passed as the ground.

"You on the other hand," he explained. "Lack the sort of power that Anderson, and indeed most humans, have." He raised his hand, catching Yumie's blade as she lashed out again at him.

"You aren't whole, are you?" He wrenched the katana from her grip, throwing it into the darkness. "It's all too easy to beat a divided mind, a divided heart, and a divided soul."

Yumie stepped back, focusing her will on fighting Alucard in this meta-physical fashion. She punched at him, only to find that her sword had reappeared in her grip; summoned by her unknowingly. She withdrew and slashed again, the blow catching Alucard's shoulder.

"Hardly a challenge," he mused. "I'm almost sorry to have had to resort to this. You see, the paladin's attack indeed weakened me to the point where even you would have had a fighting chance against me. My mind however, is still fresh, and if a mere shield like you is all I have to face, this will be rather simple." He walked backwards, fading into the distance as Yumie struggled to catch up.

"Usually, I'm restricted to a few activities within a human's mind." Alucard's voice again drifted around her, disguising his true location. "Browsing thoughts, influencing dreams, forcing the weak-willed into simple actions through hypnosis. Petty tricks really." Gunshots lashed out from the shadows, striking Yumie from all angles.

"But with you, it's different. You can't fight back with a shattered being. Really, I can do anything I want to you; that is, as long as I utterly destroy you and your base personality. I'll take your mind apart and rebuild it from the ground up. It will be such delicious fun. Indeed, you'll be my most 'hands-on' conversion yet." He laughed, the sound echoing and surrounding Yumie.

"I'll never let that happen!" shouted Yumie. She broke into a run, Alucard's laughter left in the darkness behind her. A figure appeared in the distance, and she ran for it, the only beacon of light in the fog around her.

A gunshot sounded from behind, yet missed the speeding berserker. Alucard appeared before her, yet she managed to sweep her blade into his side, slashing apart his illusionary form. The vampire persisted as she ran though, flashes of gunfire and the whiz of bullets surrounding her as the figure drew closer.

Finally, just as Yumie reached the figure, a bullet slammed her to the ground. Her eyes fogged by the pain, she could hardly make out just who or what she had reached. Just as she was certain that the damage inflicted by Alucard had left her too worn to stand again, caring hands enveloped her, lifting and rejuvenating her. She stood with this new help, the fatigue and pain drifting away. She turned to face her savior, but the figure had vanished into the darkness.

"An annoying delay…" muttered Alucard, appearing again from the shadows.

"What was that?" Asked Yumie, realizing with a bit of annoyance that she was forced to rely on her foe for explanations in this battle.

"An echo really," he answered, taking a moment to reload his guns; a pointless gesture in a world dominated by will, not weapons. "Probably left by your host. I really wouldn't know. Dealing with multiple personalities is new to me as well."

"Yumiko? But how could she…?"

"It doesn't matter. It seems that this has gone on too long if you are starting to receive assistance from your alter ego. Still though, if your alternate pushes you off-stage, I suspect that she'll be just as easy to overwhelm. I may not have read her as I have you, but I know that she's more or less everything that you aren't. Empathy and kindness, but no fighting spirit or berserker rage."

"You won't harm her!" Shouted Yumie, charging at Alucard with renewed rage. The vampire however, simply stepped back into the shadows, disappearing from her sight.

"Of course I won't," he said, patronizing. "After all, weren't you created to protect her? No, no, I suppose that doesn't exactly cover it." He appeared beside her, backing away from a sword-slash and opening fire with both guns. Yumie however, charged through the bullets, delivering a brutal slash to Alucard's midsection. The vampire evaporated into darkness with a burst of laughter.

His voice again echoed around her. "Ah, yes, that's it. You're a shield. A barrier to protect her from everything she doesn't like and can't bear to confront. An existence built on pain and suffering. Empty really. In fact, we're not all that different, you and I. Perhaps I'll just destroy her. Then we may see eye-to-eye and you will become a willing convert."

"I thought you said that you couldn't face her as long as I'm still awake."

"Easily remedied," he responded. "After all, the fact that you truly don't need to protect her is just another weakness in the armor she's placed around herself."

Yumie had never really thought about her relationship with Yumiko. All she knew was that whenever she was awakened, there was always either pain to endure helplessly, or aggressors to destroy with a holy vengeance. Indeed, she could hardly remember whether or not her devotion to Catholicism and the Iscariot order came from her own choices, or a simple adherence to Yumiko's loyalties.

Alucard spoke, reacting to her thoughts. "See, all your hard work for nothing but pain. Is that all you are, a weapon? Yes, indeed that's all you are; you were never given a chance to be anything else. And what is she? She's your transportation, the one to deliver you into battle and the one to remove you when the slaughter has ended, a fool who sees you as nothing but a weapon to use in order to gain favor with her superior. How could you ever respect such a being?"

Alucard's shadow loomed over her, his glasses reflecting her vision back at her, showing Yumie how her own eyes were filled with acceptance and surrender.

"All you need to do," he said comfortingly, "is fall asleep. Then she will have no choice but to awaken, and I will remove her from your being. She deserves the chance to stand on her own against a foe, to know what you have to deal with in her name. She's the Iscariot, not you. There's no point in sacrificing yourself for her."

Yumie cast her gaze away from Alucard, yet the vampire's words struck her. It would be all too easy to just sink into the fog, to abandon Yumiko to face Alucard in her stead.

"I'm not going to force you into this. The decision must be made of your own free will. So make the choice!"

* * *

A/N: It's good to be back, even if it is later than I had anticipated, and I will continue to update regularly. As well, please review, I'm sorta entering uncharted territory here, and I'd really like to know how I'm doing. 


	54. Chapter 52: Choices

Author's Note: Heh, bit of a tough section right now. It's slowing down the updates, but I figure it'll be worth it when its finished. To tell you all the truth, I didn't expect this fic to get so long, 100,000 words or nearing it.

* * *

"So make the choice!"

The words echoed around Yumie, surrounding and consuming her. This was it, she realized. This was where she had to choose sides. Not for Iscariot or for Yumiko, but for herself.

_For myself_, she thought, the words sounding somehow wrong in her head. Who was she? Was she a part of Yumiko? An equal, a partner, or an unwilling participant in her host's denial and desire to serve Iscariot, fed naught but pain, hatred, and the satisfaction of the kill, a weapon for Yumiko to call upon and a shield to hide behind when trouble arose.

Yumiko is weak; that was all she knew for certain. But then again, so was she. Alucard had made it painfully obvious that she was a fractured being. He had exploited the fact that Yumiko and her were unable to support each other, holding on to and keeping separate their respective traits. And Yumie then realized that she herself didn't want Yumiko's mercy and understanding. She wouldn't know what to do with it, just as Yumiko herself had no idea of the powers of rage and violence.

_Is removing her from the equation really the answer to this?_ She contemplated. _Will this make me free? Will it make me stronger? Will I finally at peace with myself? No._ That was her decision.

"No," She answered aloud, at last with a clear decision. Her voice did not shake, her nerves were steady, she was sure of the choice. "I will not betray her."

"Very well then," acknowledged Alucard, his voice conveying boredom at having waited so long for her to choose. "It now appears as though I'll have to break down and reconstruct your mind. A boring task, but I have more than enough patience to see it through."

He lifted his Casull and fired with a casual disdain for the Iscariot's choice. However, his expression shifted to confusion when Yumie vanished before the bullet could strike her. He reached out with his powers, yet could find no trace of his target.

Suddenly, the vampire's control over the situation had been reversed. The darkness that made up Yumie's mind began to dissipate, becoming absorbed into something greater, the shadows were being sucked away into a void, and Alucard had no intention of going with them. He summoned up the energy to escape, fleeing Yumie as a fog of darkness.

* * *

Heinkel rushed to the unconscious Yumie's side, immediately checking for any sign of injury, or any sign of Alucard, yet neither could be found. The undead army under the vampire's control stood still, yet the surviving Iscariots were ready to repel a counterattack at any time. Desperate for a way to wake up Yumie, she dug into her pockets and withdrew a pair of glasses, Yumiko's to be precise. She then placed the glasses on Yumie, hoping that the trigger to shift personalities would be enough to wake up her partner. Yumie, or rather Yumiko now, began to stir seconds later, and a dark fog descended as well.

The wounded Alucard reappeared, his posture still straight and his face still proud despite the strains of battle. Yumiko stood up as well, wielding Yumie's sword with an intensity that Heinkel found foreign in the peaceful nun.

"You failed." Said Yumiko, "All you've succeeded in doing was forcing us to come to our own solution for the problem that's plagued us, me, for so long."

"Oh please," said Alucard scornfully. "That was little more than a diversion. I am rather fatigued after all, and a break for my physical form was required after the battle with 'Father' Anderson. I just needed a little time to prepare… this!" He reached out towards the darkness blanketing the sky.

A dark mist began to rise from the ground, blanketing the city of London. Heinkel turned to Alucard, only to find that the vampire had vanished. The fog rose over her head, yet she didn't choke on it, or even sense it's presence. Soon it rose above the Iscariots, rising above even the Millennium zeppelins, before vanishing into Alucard's barrier. The air cleared up moments later, revealing Alucard standing before them once again.

"What was that?" Asked Yumiko.

Alucard gave a light chuckle, the weight of the situation seemingly lessoned on him. "Take a look for yourself." She did, noticing her comrades were looking around in confusion.

"The ghouls?" Asked Heinkel. "What did you do with them?" Indeed, the square was now devoid of the unlife that had plagued it. The only remaining beings within were the Iscariots, Alucard, and Integra, who had been observing the situation from within the ghoul ranks.

"They're gone." Answered Alucard. "They fulfilled their purpose, thus I recalled them. There are no more grand armies parading around London, only the pitiful remnants of Millennium and the British Military. Of course, it was rather refreshing to be able to draw upon my soul-enslaved army once again. I'd almost forgotten how handy they could be. Though recalling them of course allowed me to personally draw upon them to restore my powers."

"In other words, you just invalidated any damage we may have done to you thus far by sacrificing your army."

"Exactly."

"Well, that settles it. Yumie, er, Yumiko?"

"Yes?"

"Ready?"

"Yes."

"Good." With that, Heinkel and the Iscariots raised their guns and opened fire on Alucard. The vampire returned fire as he was torn apart by the multitude of rounds, forcing the gun-wielding Iscariots to dive for cover. Yumiko however, rushed at Alucard with unmatched speed, weaving and ducking around his aim, before slicing him cleanly in half with her katana. She paused for a moment as the vampire's lower half fell, yet Alucard's upper body remained suspended in the air.

"Boo." He shifted his left hand to hold the barrel of his Casull and gave her a quick pistol whip. Yumiko fell to the ground unconscious while Alucard's body reattached itself. Heinkel broke out of her roll, ready to snap of a burst of shots at Alucard, when she felt the barrel of gun touch her back.

"Don't even think about moving." Rip Van Winkle stood at Heinkel's back, gun raised.

Heinkel sighed. "I'd forgotten about you." She acknowledged. Without Father Anderson, Iscariot's best had been felled so easily… By now, the other Iscariots were under the sights of both of Alucard's guns.

"It was a good fight," complimented Alucard. "Truly a battle of attrition. I just happened to last more rounds."

"Just get it over with." Spat Heinkel, the weight of their failure, having lost so soon after Anderson's near-victory, was crushing. She didn't want to listen to Alucard's complimentary gloating on top of that.

"There shall be no need for that." Came the voice of Integra Hellsing. The first time she had spoken since the battle began. "The forces of Iscariot entered this country with a mission to aid its citizenry in this case, even if it was only because Maxwell lacked the forces to conquer it. Their choice to fight you above Millennium is understandable, perhaps even a compliment to your power. After all, you were causing the most trouble. As a result, they shall be allowed to leave this city unharmed, though their affiliation makes this offer temporary at best."

"Very well, my Master." Alucard lowered his guns, and Rip followed in turn. The Iscariots stood, pride shaken. "I suppose it's just as well that they can live to report to the Vatican on just how badly they were defeated."

"Father Anderson did defeat you." Yumiko corrected. "And although circumstance intervened to prevent him from finishing you, perhaps the Lord still has a plan for you in all this, we will return to face you again one day, and we will triumph."

"Amen," acknowledged Heinkel. She knew that this battle was over, and Iscariot had lost. Between a rejuvenated Alucard, and the annoying Rip, the forces of the church would not succeed. "Let's go." Carrying the unconscious Anderson, the Iscariots departed from the war-torn square, already mentally planning the next battle they would have with Hellsing, a revenge for the insult Anderson had suffered this day.

"An annoying sideshow at best." Remarked Integra to Alucard. "Those stubborn Catholics have no business in attacking us, no matter how much greater an abomination you are when compared to Millennium. The agreement we had was against Millennium, and they have cost us precious time that could have been used to prevent further destruction to this city."

Alucard disagreed. "This city is already dead, my countess. Removing the forces of Iscariot prevents a minor hindrance when we rebuild it in our image."

Integra gestured upwards, her next words sidestepping the point of her conversion to Alucard's point of view yet again. "Regardless of your future plans; which by the way are entirely subject to my approval, there is still Millennium to deal with, and I've shown a great deal more patience than I should have towards such filth as they."

Alucard gave a light bow. "Consider them handled, my Master." But Integra knew it would not be that simple. She gazed up at the massive zeppelin and it's escorts hovering over the city, and she could tell that the Major was looking right back at her. _Millennium is not its army_, she realized. _There is something much deeper and darker at its core_.

* * *

A/N: Well, it's been a long, long, wait, but I'm back and hopefully here to stay. Please drop me a review, it is truly appreciated no matter the content. By the way, don't count the Iscariots completely out yet. There's still the matter of Yumiko's unexplained change, and Anderson of course. 


	55. Chapter 53: Capture

Author's Note: As many of you may have noticed, I was a bit off with the last chapter. I'm hoping to at least build back up some momentum with this latest chapter, prepping for the conclusion and all.

Nythology, thanks, and I will look into the OOC issue. Definitely don't want to run into that problem this late in the game.

Lennox, it's good to be back, and I'm glad to know that you guys have the patience to deal with my long absences. I'll try to keep them to a minimum, but we all have obligations, and this fic is an unfortunately low real-life priority for me. As for Integra, yeah, she's back in charge and hopefully staying there this time; however short her remaining interactions with Alucard will be.

Zaisha, ah yes… the Millennium issue. I have something planned, and I hope it's decently ambitious. And yes, Alucard does put up a decent façade. Perhaps he's been disappointed so many times it's getting easier to put up with, or he has a bigger plan for everything, and isn't about to let the minor defeats bring him down. And yeah, the Iscariots, I was mostly looking for a method there that involved them surviving to have a role later but still getting them out of the way for things to progress.

* * *

An eerie silence fell over the bridge of the _Hindenburg II_ as the dark fog rose up from the city below, consuming the vast, undead hordes under Alucard's control in its wake. Like a wave it boiled over the consoles and soldiers, yet left them untouched in its single purpose. The Major even smiled as the darkness flooded past him, knowing that Alucard's gesture was harmless to the Millennium forces. 

"The undead forces under Hellsing command have disappeared!" Cried an observations officer. Reports flooded in from the ground troops to confirm the soul-slave army's withdrawal, and cheering broke out on the bridge. The Major sat above the rejoicing crew, the Doc on his right and the Butler on his left.

"Shall I bring them back into line?" Asked the Doc, remote in hand. A few summary executions would certainly sober up the crew, but the Major shook his head to indicate his disapproval of the suggestion.

"Come now," he chided. "There's no point in killing the mood now." His eyes narrowed as he observed the bridge crew. "Especially when it is the last celebration they will ever experience anyways. How are the preparations coming along Doc?"

"Quite well," he answered confidently. "Although I should probably be off shortly to give it my personal attention."

"Yes, yes, of course, see that you do." The Major knew that the Doc was terribly reclusive and socially inept, more suited to a lab or the sadistic presentation of his own works. Being near such an unfamiliar sight as cheer, even if it was from a crew of undead Nazis, was probably most uncomfortable for him. "Just make sure it is ready in time for the arrival of my guest. I am giving the order to have her brought in shortly, and I cannot wait to give her a taste of my… macabre communion."

""I am certain Miss Hellsing will fully appreciate it." The Doc then turned and departed from the bridge with all possible haste. The Major then reached to his side for a pen and paper, and scribbled a few words before handing it to the Butler.

"Get that to Second-Lieutenant Wittman. He is to take charge in bringing in Sir Hellsing. As for you, insure that Alucard is unable to prevent such an action, either by destroying him, or at least keeping him busy."

A silent nod from the Butler was the only indication that the Major had even been heard. The former Hellsing Angel of Death disappeared from the Major's side in a flash or movement, already on his way to the surface, falling back to the world, which he had left as a human, but now returned to as an immortal servant of Millennium.

The Major sat back in his chair, outwardly calm, but in reality he was consumed by an almost giddy anticipation. He could hardly wait.

* * *

Second-Lieutenant Wittman waited for orders behind the makeshift bunker constructed by his men during the battle against Alucard's forces. The British forces had either retreated from the city, or been pushed on towards the Tower of London. The battle was theirs, although Wittman couldn't help but wonder what Millennium could accomplish with most of their ground forces wiped out in the first battle of what should have been a long and glorious campaign. He simply resolved however, to leave that matter to the Major and focus on the tasks at hand instead. 

Wittman's view was forced upward as a flash of movement caught his eye. The Butler appeared before him, having leapt to his location from the _Hindenburg II_. The Major's messenger simply handed him a note, then disappeared again with a speed that even he could not keep up with. The Millennium officer quickly read the note, crumpling it as soon as he was done.

"New orders!" He shouted, rallying his troops. "We're pulling back to the zeppelins after we accomplish one last goal. The capture of Sir Hellsing." The troops were already prepared to depart by the time he had finished relaying the orders, and the hunt was on. After all, the Letztes Battalion was made up of the most skilled and battle-hardened soldiers in the world, yet none of them wanted to spend a minute more in a land under the watchful eyes of Alucard.

* * *

Trafalgar Square felt oddly empty with the removal of Alucard's soul-enslaved army. The forest of the impaled still stood, an unnerving site to all that observed it, but it lacked the motion of the ghoulish horde. Integra Hellsing didn't mind in the least. Alucard had taken far too much leeway, and she was worried about her own mental state in allowing things to go as far as they had. The quiet gave her a chance to reflect on the situation, and plan the next step in the war against Millennium. Even Alucard was momentarily occupied, giving that new tool of his orders that she was not privy to. The new vampire nodded and walked away, hoisting that musket over her shoulders and disappearing into the shadows. 

"So, servant." She addressed Alucard, reminding him of his role. "Any suggestions as to how we should go about this?" She took a look up to the sky, at the zeppelin that hung ominously in the air just north of the square.

"It's simple." Responded Alucard. If he was bothered by her reference to his status, he did not show it. "Let them come to us."

"They would be so foolish as to attack now that they've lost the advantage?"

"They already are."

With that, a figure appeared in the distance, springing across the roofs at London with a casual grace. It landed in the square, atop one of the many spears sticking up from the ground, before stepping off and gliding to the ground.

"Walter?" Integra recognized the vampire, despite the younger face of her former retainer. "What have they done to you?"

She had had little time to reflect upon the events that had conspired to have Walter sacrifice himself for her safety, stepping out of the car to confront the silent Millennium soldier while calmly asking her to escape without him. She had hoped that he had been able to escape, or even defeat the foe that he had looked at with such hatred and familiarity. _I ordered you to come back alive!_ She hated this twisted mockery of a good man with all her heart and soul.

"Alucard." She spoke calmly, that otherworldly feeling coming over her again, giving her the strength and calm to hide her weakness at the sight of Walter's transformation. "Destroy that thing."

Alucard smiled, though there was a trace of bitterness in his voice. "At once, Master." He raised his Casull and fired a round to test his opponent. The bullet didn't even make it halfway to the Butler before splitting into a dozen fragments, each striking around him with tiny wisps of smoke as they sparked against the ground.

"Faster than ever I see." Complimented Alucard. "A fallen Angel of Death, or rather, one that has finally risen to his full potential? You've never been stronger, or ever been weaker."

The Butler answered with only silence, yet the Hellsing vampire took it as a response.

"I see…" Alucard looked as though his words had just been confirmed. "Then let the sounds of battle make up our final conversation O' Angel!" He took on a look of longing, as though he knew that no matter the result of this battle, he had missed out on something wonderful. "Perhaps I'll finally understand you by delivering unto you the peace you would want!" Wires and bullets clashed again as the combatants sprung into action, Integra left to observe the proceedings.

"There she is!" Came a voice from behind her. She spun around, drawing her saber just in time to decapitate a Millennium soldier leaping for her back.

A group of vampires appeared from the shadows, leveling guns at Integra. A quick glance towards Alucard told her that her servant would be unavailable to aid her. She refused, however, to back down, keeping her sword pointed at the Nazi soldiers. An officer made his way through the ranks of the remaining soldiers of the Letztes Battalion, raising a hand to signal his subordinates to stand down.

"Are you Sir Hellsing?" He asked. "Current head of the Royal Protestant Knights, or Hellsing Organization?"

"I am." She answered firmly. "And you are?"

"Second-Lieutenant Wittman of the Waffen SS. I am under orders to capture you and deliver you to our commander."

"You realize, of course, that I will not surrender willingly."

"Of course." He reached to his side, withdrawing a saber from its scabbard, a relic of an age where it befit officers to carry such weapons, just as Integra's was a relic from a time when knights would still take up arms to defend their rulers.

Integra made the first move, stepping forward and launching herself into a lunge, sword outstretched. Wittman parried the blow easily, knocking aside her blade and launching a counterattack. He raised his sword and brought it down in a chop aimed at Integra's right shoulder, yet she was fast enough to raise her sword and force Wittman into hitting her guard. The blade bounced back from Integra and both combatants took the opportunity to back away from one another.

At a casual glance, it appeared as though Wittman held the advantage. The Millennium officer was stronger, faster, and had decades more training and experience over Integra, but she knew that even without Alucard she still held the edge. _After all, he has no intentions of killing me, and I would sooner die than give up_. Knowing that Wittman would be limited to disarming strikes, Integra charged with a ferocity that would have been considered reckless were it not for her skill.

The first strikes against Wittman were probes, varying methods to test his weaknesses and reactions. Integra then gave her all at him, lashing out with a dizzying combination of stabs, slashes, spins and strikes, fearing only possible attempts to counterattack against her sword-arm. Wittman was pushed back by the offensive, yet he still managed to deflect an assault that would have overwhelmed a lesser swordsman in seconds.

Integra stepped back, tired and short of breath. She gave a quick look around, but neither Alucard nor the Butler were anywhere to be found. Their duel had taken them away from the square, doubtlessly the Major's intentions in sending him down in the first place. Noticing her hesitation, Wittman advanced, forcing Integra to pull her full attention back to the duel, charging again at the Millennium officer.

Integra's efforts began to falter as her fatigue built. Her attacks slowed to the point where Wittman began to counter with quick deliberate strikes against her blade, trying to force it from her hand. Although it was clear at this point that Integra could not land a blow on her inhuman foe, she fought on regardless, trading her aggressive strength-fuelled attacks for a more evasive technique, using footwork to duck in and out of her opponent's range. The way things stood, Wittman could have easily rushed at her and disarmed her with ease at this point, but he afforded Integra every courtesy, allowing her to exhaust herself upon his defense, as was her due as a knight, speeding up the process occasionally with an attack on her blade.

Integra's saber finally dropped to the ground with a resounding clang, knocked out of her numbed fingers' grip by a particularly hard strike by Wittman. Although tired, defeated, and held at both sword and gunpoint, Integra straightened herself and put a look of indifference on her face.

"Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing. As per my orders, I am taking you as a prisoner and asking that you accompany me. Should you refuse at this point, you shall be forced to comply by means of physical coercion."

_In other words_, she thought. _Either I go up walking, or go up bound and gagged_. "Very well," she said, choosing the former. After all, it would be both more dignified and practical to remain mobile during her capture, lest an opportunity to escape arose. The Millennium soldiers formed a guard around her and began leading her to the recovery craft quickly descending from the zeppelin above.

* * *

The Major sat comfortably in his chair, watching a recording of Integra's duel on one of the many screens in front of him, and observing her being led away on another. 

"Such a pity," remarked the Major. "That Wittman was so good that is. I'd have loved to see her kill him." He was addressing the Captain, who had appeared at the Major's side with the absence of the Butler. The bridge below had turned back into a perfect picture of order and control as they guided the recovery craft to the last group of soldiers remaining below.

"Its nothing personal against him of course. I just would have so appreciated watching her shatter his defenses with such speed, skill, and grace, then to watch her pick him apart with lighter attacks… And of course, the finishing blow! That alone would be worth the losing an officer. After all, in war, lives have little value when compared to the art created in the process. To trade the existence of but one of my soldiers to witness such beauty…" The Major's voice trailed away a bit, not that it mattered to his passive audience.

"Report form the _Graf Spee II_." Called out a communications officer below. "It appears that a helicopter on the roof of the Tower of London is being prepared for takeoff."

"There's nothing we can do about it." Commented the chief weapons officer. "We have no long-range weaponry left. None of our ships do."

"It's no matter." Called down the Major. "They are just delivering themselves into my hands anyways. You see, I have no doubt that the remnants of Hellsing haven't been idle for the past while. They know that only a final, decisive strike can end this war. How ironic that they'll merely arrive just in time to witness my final victory."

Suddenly, an invisible shockwave seemed to slam into the bridge, dropping the bridge officers to their knees, and even sending the Major tumbling from his chair. The commander of the Millennium project stood slowly, forgoing aid from an unfazed Captain. He let out a laugh as he stood up straight, overlooking the fallen bridge crew.

"Everything… It's just going so much better than I could have ever hoped!" He declared.

* * *

A/N: Well, things are moving towards the end. Almost all of the factors are in place to set up the final battle. As usual, please send in some reviews. And I'll try to speed up the review process, but no promises there. 


	56. Chapter 54: Preperations

Fire enveloped the cityscape of London, shading the hovering zeppelins above with a red glow through the haze of smoke filling the air. The Tower of London however, was at peace for the moment. The burning helicopter in the courtyard, brought down by Rip Van Winkle's unnatural ammunition, had been put out, and battle-weary soldiers lay on what remained of the grass. Sir Penwood of the former Round Table Conference stood silently, watching as the figure of General Harwood approached.

"This is all that remains?" Inquired Penwood.

"Unfortunately," sighed Harwood. "We lost more troops than I had expected possible, the opposition was far fiercer than I'd been led to believe. It was a miracle to have led so many as a couple hundred to the rally point here. Just what went so wrong in the infallible plan Islands promised us?"

Penwood sighed, Harwood had never been privy to the workings of the Round Table Conference, neither in their knowledge of Hellsing and it's work, nor in Islands' planned betrayal of the country.

"Suffice it to say that we were similarly surprised by the events that have unfolded over the night." Answered Penwood. "As can be seen simply by Islands' and the others' deaths."

"It appears we did an excellent job of overestimating our own importance in this conflict, we managed to fool everyone but the monsters up there," Harwood pointed at the Zeppelins looming in the distance. "But we're still far from finished right?"

"Indeed," Confirmed Penwood. "Commander Pickman of Hellsing is preparing a team to infiltrate and hopefully destroy the enemy flagship." He clenched his fist, looking over the burning city before him.

"Hellsing eh?" Commented Harwood. "Not even a month ago I'd never heard of them. Now they're in the middle of the greatest crisis ever to face this country."

"They've always worked from the shadows." Replied Penwood. "All we need to do is give them what they need, sit back, and let them carry out their specialty. Of course, our roles are not yet finished."

"Right," Harwood nodded understandingly. "We still possess a formidable array of anti-aircraft weaponry here. It would be a shame to not put it to use."

"A shame indeed," Acknowledged Penwood, turning back to the interior of the tower.

* * *

"The gear is loaded and we're ready to fly." Reported Pip from the cockpit of the helicopter formerly intended to be the Round Table Conference's escape vehicle. "You do realize this is crazy though?"

Pickman shook his head as he boarded the helicopter, taking the seat beside Pip. "It's a long-shot," he admitted. "But we're fresh out of options. That thing is too big and too well armored for the weapons here to have a guaranteed shot at destroying. Besides, with all the troops they've deployed so far there can't be many left aboard that floating monstrosity."

"And we do have Seras along." Ceded Pip. "Now that I think of it. We stand a damn good chance of at least taking it down. Zeppelins were never premier tools of war for a reason."

"Though," he added after a moment. "I'm not planning on being aboard when that thing lights up."

"Right," Acknowledged Pickman, turning back to the main body of the helicopter where Seras and the mercenary team waited he gave a quick check. "Everyone ready?"

"All clear sir." Replied Seras. Counting her, Pip, and Pickman, there were ten aboard the vehicle. Although intended to ferry the slightly larger numbering Round Table knights, the inclusion of armaments made for something of a tight fit, and Pickman was not inclined towards taking any more chances than necessary in ferrying over to the Millennium Zeppelin.

"Alright, we're taking off." Announced Pip, as the rotors began to drown out conversation between the Wild Geese mercenaries. Seconds later, the helicopter was airborne, poised to deliver a thrust at the heart of the Millennium Organization.

* * *

"We're here." Announced Second-Lieutenant Wittman, in the lead of the group of vampires leading Integra through the corridors of the Major's flagship. As they had boarded the recovery craft, some unseen force had thrown her captors off-balance. While not enough to prompt an escape attempt, Integra continued to study her opponents for weaknesses. The bridge doors slid open, and the party continued into the heart of Millennium's operation.

The Major stood waiting inside, a relatively unimposing figure compared to the Captain beside him, the remaining officers of Millennium bustled about in the bridge below, supervising the few remaining units on the ground. Wittman and the Major quickly exchanged salutes as the Major focused on the captive Integra.

"Good to have you with us Lieutenant." Greeted the Major. "And how delightful to have the esteemed Sir Integra Hellsing among us to observe the final act of this show."

"Just what is it that you intend?" Questioned Integra. "What is the purpose behind this useless mess you've ensnared yourselves in?"

"I would have thought that would be obvious." Replied the Major. "This is a war between us, is it not? Our actions are simply in accordance to that. Our purpose is nothing less than total victory!"

"And this?" Integra swept her arm towards the bustling officers and enormous tactical map below. "This is your idea of victory?" Her voice took on a taunting tone as she began to berate the Major as though he were a child. "All you've succeeded in doing amounts to nothing in the long run. This city may be destroyed, and millions may be dead, but you've utterly failed in defeating this country. Your forces are all but vanquished, your own ending is imminent, and we will rebuild as we always have. What a miserable creature you are, if this grand waste of lives and effort is to be considered your victory."

"How passionless you are!" Applauded the Major, "So cold and detached to quantify our battle in such a manner." His voice lowered as he countered Integra. "The creation of such pain and suffering amongst our enemies would be enough for many of us. And I'd agree with you, were that alone the goal of all this, but it's not. This war has not been fought against your country; it has been fought against you, it has been fought against the Hellsing Organization. And that battle has yet to reach a conclusion."

His tone lightened. "But what a terrible host I'm being!" He held his hand out to her, "if you would please accompany me to the lower observation deck? This space is fine for planning and commanding, but in entertaining I find it rather lacking."

Integra was well aware of her situation. Despite the Major's act to the contrary, she was a prisoner at the moment, there was again little choice but to accept. "After you." She offered, while again promising herself that she would end the pudgy monster before her the instant such an opportunity arose.

"Thank you," Accepted the Major. He gave a quick gesture to Wittman, indicating the officer to follow. He stopped the Captain however, when the taller man turned as well. "I'd like you to remain here." Asked the Major. "We'll be having guests shortly, and I'd so hate for them to interrupt."

"Guests?" Inquired Integra. While the Major had no obligation to elaborate to her, she knew he would do so anyways.

"Nothing more than the remnants of your troops." Dismissed the Major. "Quite amazing that these trivial elements have survived so long, if for no other reason than to be killed here."

"Rather confident for someone whose agents have failed so spectacularly throughout the duration of your so-called war." Countered Integra.

The Major again reacted with a smile. "A matter of perspective. However, your lack of understanding aside, we have our own trump cards, not unlike your own organization, the Captain here being first and foremost amongst them. He's an entirely different game than what you've observed of us thus far."

"Another example of your wastefulness then." She commented. "Leaving your best underutilized while Alucard and my organization tears apart his inferiors."

"And another example of your lack of understanding about us." Countered the Major. "But come, all will be explained in time." He turned to a staircase leading out of the bridge, Integra and Wittman following.

* * *

The silence around the Tower of London, broken by the departure of the helicopter, settled in again as it's rotors faded into the night. The control room within however, was abuzz with activity. Sir Penwood and General Harwood now stood in the middle of the British Military's final preparations for covering the Hellsing incursion into the Millennium flagship.

"All launchers are armed, targets set and firing calculations are complete." Reported an aide. "We can fire at any time."

"Does radar have the Hellsing team on scope?" Asked Penwood

"Impossible." Answered Harwood. "It seems whatever is jamming our communications has also done a number on our radar. All we can do is trust that they can keep on the route we worked up."

"All right then. Proceed with firing." Ordered Penwood, prompting the staff below to announce and input the final orders. Seconds later the concealed anti-aircraft missile batteries throughout the tower shattered the darkness surrounding the area with a barrage of missiles and their engine glows, reaching out to the zeppelins hanging above the city. A second wave fired seconds after the first, following directly in their trails and giving the impression of a concentrated stream.

"All missiles are away." Reported the aide. "Every last one of them is expected to hit." He added, with a hint of personal satisfaction.

Penwood kept his eye on the video feeds from the outside as the path the missiles followed split, each of the to prong-like trails reaching to one of the two zeppelins floating beside and in front of the Millennium flagship identified as the _Hindenburg II_.

Neither of the two craft could evade the weapons arrayed against them, a result of their heavy-handed trans-Atlantic flight, as well as the helicopter attack earlier in the night.

A new trail of fire and explosions lit up their fuselages as the missiles plunged into them, ending as the second wave breached the light armor and triggered major interior explosions. The escort craft quickly deteriorated, culminating in a pair of massive bisecting detonations, sending a spray of fire and debris to the city below as the behemoth-like zeppelins sunk.

Cheers greeted the sight of the falling monstrosities as the command center burst into celebration. Only the massive Hindenburg II remained airborne, and the Hellsing team would soon remedy that. The path was clear, and the explosions were no doubt excellent decoys for the intrusion.

Penwood waited a minute for the cheers to wind down. "Alright everyone, begin the evacuation! We're leaving this city." He ordered. Turning over to Harwood he gave a quick nod and commented. "Now we're out of the fight."


	57. Chapter 55: Selection

Explosions tore apart the air above London as the zeppelins above were smacked down as though by the hand of a furious god. Yet none of it mattered to Alucard, even as he charged through the fiery wreckage of the devastated _Heinz Guderian_, his one focus was on his target: The Butler, Walter, charging right after him.

His guns lit up the night, yet even as they thundered in his hands they felt inconsequential. Their bullets had been designed to combat humans and manufactured vampires. They had not been designed to so much as impede perfection, and the Butler had made it quite clear that that was indeed what he faced. The rounds were effortlessly swatted aside by the Butler, a wire sliding through each one, sending them into the ground as halves. He needn't have gone to even the slightest effort to intercept Alucard's weapons, having the speed to dodge with ease, yet there was a certain artistry in his moves which Alucard could not help but admire.

The Casull and Jackal pair clicked empty simultaneously, signaling the Butler to close the trap he had been weaving throughout the chase. Without so much as a sound, wires cleanly cut through buildings, street, and even the flaming debris above, forming a net with Alucard at its center. The elder vampire however, simply stopped and gave a quick chuckle before dashing to one of the net's rapidly-closing sides, expertly ducking under and around the near-invisible weapons, breaking free before it became thick enough to ensnare him.

The Butler smiled, detaching the hopelessly tangled set of wires and rearming in an instant. "I'd always hoped it wouldn't be that easy." He said smoothly, with no trace of the age he once carried.

"Nonsense!" Taunted Alucard, while casually reloading his handguns. "We who have given up our humanity seek nothing but the easiest path!" He then lifted his weapons and began to fire again, forcing the Butler to dodge and intercept the rounds.

Alucard smirked as the Butler moved back onto the defensive. "Unpardonable traitor" He spat, "You've given up everything for the power you need to fulfill whatever lofty ambitions have lurked in your soul all these years, yet you and everyone else seem to never find out until it's too late…" The movement of his guns seemed to slow as darkness rippled around him. "Your dreams die with you!" A hellhound familiar sprung from his shoulder, bounding towards the Butler.

Wires caught the hellhound, suspending it mid-leap even as the Butler dodged a pair of shots fired simultaneously. A quick tug sent the beast vanishing into nothingness. "I'm well aware of that!" He replied, finding himself shouting at Alucard. "But there's too much I have left to do! Even if it was against done against my will, I can't just lay down and end it all now that I have the power to do what needs to be done!"

"What needs to be done?" Mocked Alucard. "Your transformation and subsequent treason are required? Nonsense!" He lunged at the Butler, his weapons and coat disappearing. "Your duty is done old friend, the enemy is nearly beaten, and MY master is in good hands. So rest!" His hand shot out to impale his foe, but the Butler was faster, a flash of wires quickly removing the offending appendage.

"No!" Refused the Butler. "My duty to Sir Hellsing won't be complete until I destroy you!" A torrent of wires looped around Alucard's limbs, holding him firmly in place. The servant of Hellsing however, laughed at the predicament.

"Now now," he admonished. "That hardly sounds like any request she's ever made of you."

"It's not an order," the Butler admitted. "But it's necessary! You're too close to turning her and I cannot allow that!" The wires around Alucard tightened, blood seeping through his clothing as the cuts deepened. "Just as when Sir Arthur Hellsing sealed you before, your usefulness to the Hellsing family is once again exceeded by the danger you represent!" Then, without so much as even a grunt of effort, he gave a sharp pull on the wires in his hands, sending Alucard spinning to the ground in pieces.

"Come on!" He taunted, the arrogance in his voice betraying his spoken intentions. "Show me some of that fabled invincibility of yours! Or did that useless Iscariot weaken you so badly that this is all that's left for me?" He stepped forwards towards Alucard's remains, his shoes giving a light splash as he walked through the blood of what was once a London civilian.

Wait a moment, he thought, pausing. The blood below him was starting to flow towards Alucard, pulled by an invisible tide. Other streams soon began to leak from the surrounding buildings, streets, and alleys. Realizing the sudden danger, the Butler leapt back a safe distance from the pool forming around Alucard, sinking his remains. 

"You guys are unbelievable!" Alucard's voice boomed down the street. "You throw everything you have against me, and at the same time provide me with such a feast as I have never seen before!" A fist shot out of nowhere, catching the Butler across his cheek and sending him sprawling back.

"Just how do you plan on killing something like me?" Alucard mocked, body reforming from nothing. _No, not from nothing_, realized the Butler. Blood had permeated the very air around him, drawn to Alucard in the same supernatural way as the growing pool of blood. "Just how do you plan on killing a being that can cheat life and death and consume endlessly? How do plan on killing a monster?"

The Butler responded by raising his wires and launching himself at Alucard.

* * *

Pip struggled to keep the helicopter stable as the shockwaves from the exploding zeppelins buffeted the small aircraft. Moments later though, the Millennium escorts were nothing more than burning debris; the light given off by their conflagration fading in the helicopter's wake as they drew closer to the massive flagship, slowing down as they gained altitude to land on the top of the massive envelope. A small maintenance hatch half-way across the vehicle marked the best spot to land, Pip expertly guiding the helicopter to a landing on the questionable surface, making sure to match the zeppelin's slow cruising speed. The landing was slowly performed, Pip relying on the helicopter's weight to keep it steady on the light surface.

The side-doors flung open and the first mercenary to disembark nearly killed himself, accidentally slipping on the envelope as he moved to cover the maintenance hatch. Seras quickly followed, effortlessly dashing across the difficult surface to grab and drag back the man before he reached the decline that would take him irrecoverably close to going over the side.

"Damnit!" Scolded Pip, careful to not repeat his subordinate's mistake as he climbed out of the cockpit. "If you're going to get killed, at least have the courtesy of letting the enemy do it!"

"Sorry captain," Apologized the mercenary, turning to follow the rest of the team filing out of the helicopter towards the maintenance hatch. Pickman was the last to disembark, carrying a demolitions bag over his shoulder.

Seras gave the hatch a sharp tug, flinging it open. She jumped inside, giving a quick yell that the area was clear, an oddity when considering that it was the easiest entry to the zeppelin.

_If we're lucky, it's because their numbers have been thinned out_. Thought Pickman as he climbed down in the middle of the group. After everyone was inside, he, Pip, and Seras stepped apart from the seven Hellsing mercenaries.

"Alright," Briefed Pickman, confirming the plan they'd agreed to. "This will be a combination sabotage/assassination. I'll be leading a team to the engine room, whereupon we'll set enough in the way of timed explosives to turn this zeppelin into a burning wreck. In the meantime, Captain Bernadotte and Officer Victoria will be taking a second team to attack the enemy command center and kill the enemy commander, that Major. The charges will be set for 30-minutes, so considering time to reach the engine room and possibly fight along the way, you have a time limit of about 45-minutes to eliminate the target and get back."

"Is that all clear?" He received a chorus of nods in reply. "Good." He was tempted to add the prayer Commander Fargason had popularized amongst the old Hellsing troops, but decided against it. It was trying to imagine a God that would allow the unspeakable horrors visited upon London to occur. Duty and vengeance would be their only solace in the coming dawn.

Pickman and three mercenaries began towards the rear of the zeppelin; Pip, Seras, and four others trailing them began their trek to the front, where the command center would inevitably be.

* * *

Integra was beginning to tire as the Major kept up the pace towards his destination. They had traversed deck after deck, heading deeper into the bowels of the zeppelin. They passed small teams of vampires, the remnants of the Letztes Battalion. She noticed that they seemed drained, fatigued in a way that should be impossible for the inhuman monsters they were. Even Second-Lieutenant Wittman, while keeping pace with the Major, seemed sluggish. Finally, they descended a final staircase; leading to what she believed had to be the lowest level of the ship.

"Here we are," Announced the Major, rounding a corner in the hallway. He opened a lone door, a blast of air rushing past Integra and Wittman as the Major descended down a small staircase. Integra followed, the stairs leading down onto a small observation deck, connected to the zeppelin above by a few pillars and the staircase itself. A table was set at the end of the platform, a chair on both ends and a single wine glass resting in the center.

"If you would guard the entrance please lieutenant?" Asked the Major. Wittman saluted and walked back up the stairs, the door sliding shut behind him.

"Are you certain that's entirely wise?" Offered Integra. "Leaving yourself alone with an enemy sworn to kill you?"

The Major chuckled, a broad smile on his face. "I've no reason to fear you. Indeed, I've no reason to fear anything." He gestured to the table. "But please, take a seat." Integra reluctantly sat across from the Major, the table and view of London between them.

"Do you see now?" He asked, his hand sweeping over the ruined city. Fires burned below, innumerable, and the pillars of smoke had solidified into a stream of black. Even Integra could smell the death in the air. "Do you see the manner of devastation we've inflicted, armed with nothing more than a few old relics and the limitless human capacity for betrayal? There is no longer any doubt as to what we are capable of, no doubt of the possibility to create war on a global scale."

"A global scale?" She questioned. "Yet you've squandered your resources to obtain the proof of what you're capable of. Just how do you think you'll be able to threaten the world now?"

"I don't mean to threaten it." Answered the Major. "I mean to ensure that it is embroiled in a war to end all wars, a war on a scale unimaginable."

"And the means to do so? Like I said, you're nearly out of troops and weapons."

"All I need is one weapon." His smile darkened. "And that weapon is my gift to you."

The door slid open, the Doc stepping down the stairs, carrying what looked like a wine bottle in both hands.

"The extraction was a complete success, and the preparations flawless." He reported. "Though as you can no doubt see, time is running short." He sat the bottle on the table, reaching into his pocket for a vial and handing it off to the Major.

"Exemplary work as usual Doc," complimented the Major, holding the vial in front of his eyes, gazing at the contents while the Doc moved to stand behind him. Integra, finally able to see it clearly, realized that it contained blood.

"My dear Sir Hellsing," began the Major. "I take it you were never told of the full story behind the Millennium Project?" She nodded in response. "You see, at the core of our research lies our greatest finding. Indeed, without it our research would have been nothing more than the fevered dreams of madmen. That finding is a vampire. Although She has been the center of our research, what we know of Her is surprisingly little. We found Her sealed, but we know that She is both ancient and powerful beyond even the greatest hopes of our research. Through her blood we began our experiments to create ghouls, then vampires. It took decades, but the technology we work with has expanded to the point of even creating chips to infuse vampiric powers. But still, it's all incomplete."

He held out the vial, offering it to Integra. She took it, feeling a subtle magnetism from the vial. "You see, we could never surpass our original finding. Yet at the same time she remained useless, insane and uncontrollable. Now though, everything has changed. Just as the late Sir Islands proved, Her power can be replicated. Not only that, but our research far outstrips that of your own government, especially in this field."

"The elder vampire Incognito was the base for our first series of chips. With him dead though, it seems that the power in the chips has begun to slowly fade, putting a time limit on the legions of traitors we placed in your midst. We were ready however, to introduce a newer and stronger chip based on Her own power. Yet it seems our lack of control over Her is preventing the chips from taking, except in specific cases, such as Islands' using the Incognito-based chips to channel Her energy and control it, a technique with a very limited lifespan remaining."

"What does your control have to do with abominable devices like those chips working?" Questioned Integra, an increasingly uneasy feeling growing in her as she held the vial.

"It's simple." Answered the Major. "In the early days of the Millennium Project, we turned humans into vampires through rather painstaking surgery. Our mastery of bioengineering is unparalleled, but it's still unsuitable for what we need. The chip could be used to quickly transform humans, and be easy to distribute. However, these vampires are servants to the Master behind the chip they were created by. Their souls are bound and melded with the vampire responsible for their existence. Without that connection, however faint, they are doomed to deteriorate. The simple fact is that She is in no mood to accept that kind of bonding, unlike say, Alucard, who's bound and collected an army around himself, as well as created his own fledgling in Seras Victoria."

"Then you're condemned." Acknowledged Integra. "Thanks though, for saving us the work needed to track the however many chips still remaining in circulation. But why tell me all this?"

"Because we've finally solved that problem." The Major replied with a sudden glee. "This battle is nearly finished and it has served us oh-so-well in verifying our findings. The true nature of a monster like Alucard, the true nature of his master; it all needed to be experienced and confirmed before this final step could be taken. You see, Sir Hellsing, that since we can't control Her, we've no choice but to replace Her. And it's been decided that you shall be our replacement."


End file.
